The Collinsport Chronicles XXV: Eye for an eye
by Maryland Rose
Summary: Barnabas befriends a political refugee who seeks revenge on one of her tormentors.
1. Chapter 1

Tammy and Iris were rescued from eighteenth century slave ship which had been summoned by Violet and Delia. Elizabeth writes to Carolyn, wanting to return to Collinsport. Barnabas has finally learned that his curse came as an effect of a revenge spell cast by a witchdoctor caught in a slave ship owned by the Collins family. He findsm that everyone he's killed is a direct descedant of the crew of the ensorcelled ship. Schuyller Rumsen's niece, Yolanda, has become a governes in Collinwood, looking for proof of Angelique's bigamy. Urien ran away after Quentin tried to kill Barnabas and was captured by Nicholas Blair.

* * *

EYE FOR AN EYE

Dedicated to Ernest Lefever and Jeanne Kirkpatrick.

May God forgive then, because I cannot.

Chapter 1

"How's Barnabas handling it?' Megan asked George.

"Better than we would have expected. It was a terrible thing to be confronted with... You and I, we can accept our historical guilt over slavery and how much this country was built on the labor of slaves. We say "It was our ancestors, and they did not know better." He does not have that excuse. He is one of these ancestors that did not know better...

"Yes, you and I can take advantage, as many Germans say, of the "mercy of a late birth." He? he is stuck. One more guilt piled on top of the others. As if he did not have enough already."

"Yes, unlike us he cannot pretend to be good, as we do. We call ourselves good, when all we are is untested." George said sourly. "We are not good, there is too much darkness in us. Only it is under control."

"As long as we know it is there, and we don't pretend it has nothing to do with us, we can control it. The trouble begins when we stand there and pretend that the darkness has nothing to do with us. That's when people die. That's what Barnabas was doing for too long. He hated having to bite, so he pretended it was not him who did it. He denied it until the last possible moment. Of course, by then he was out of control, and he took it violently, so that the possibility of injury, or even death to his source was more than likely.. Once he got sensible about it, stopped pretending that it wasn't him who was doing the drinking, he could plan and take proper precautions... which are not difficult at all."

"But Barnabas only killed the descendants of the sailors. No one else. He did damage, but stopped short of killing. when not acting as the avenging angel for the ship's crew. And owner."

"Yes. " Megan conceded. "But still, it would have been better for everybody, himself included, if he had accepted his condition and learned how to live with it. He would not have become the Collinsport Strangler, and he would not have been locked in that coffin for over a hundred years."

"Barnabas said that it was to happen. That he had to experience firsthand what the slaves suffered in the cargo hold. That he had to learn at what cost his family had made the fortune that he carelessly spent."

"Yes. There is that. But the rule about not forgetting about our dark side holds. Look at Delia. For a long while she made a sort of truce with her dark side. She enjoyed SM sex with willing partners, and was reasonably happy. Then for some reason she got to believe that it was _wrong_ to enjoy herself that way. She got into therapy to get rid of those desires. She got rid of them, temporarily. But her darkness remained. She pretended that it was not her, that she did not want those things. And you know what happens when you do. You cut off communication between yourself and your dark side. You lose control over it. And one day it burst out, and /Delia found that magic charges whip, and had no defenses against it."

"It makes sense. Ignore your dark side at your peril... Dave never ignored his dark side... Lord, his dark side, had he not tamed it, would have made him a real monster... But he tamed it. He did not deny his desires, nor that he sought to satisfy them. But he took care not to inflict harm, and to do good in return. He put limits to himself. And that's why I mourn him instead of cursing him..."

"You too have a dark side, George. Fortunately your badge keeps in in check."

"My dark side... I gave in to it three times. Once with Julia, once with Zeb, and once with Urien."

"And it was the badge that held you back. The idea that you were dishonoring it. The badge allows you a healthy outlet for your violent tendencies, but you could lose in disgrace if you ever crossed the boundaries if imposes on you. And it was for the sake of the badge that you stopped yourself with Julia and Urien. As for Zeb, it nearly cost you to lose it... and that's why you are more careful.

"So it is not that we are good people, but that we know that we are not, and try to live with what we are."

"Yes., that seems to be the secret of it... And I think that Barnabas has finally figured it out."

* * *

The waves crashed below him as he looked into the distance...Widow's Hill at last held no terrors for him, no ugly memories. It only showed him an unimpeded vista of the ocean. Vast as his own freedom.

For he was a free man.

He had to repeat it to himself. Nothing from the past bound him. There were no standing debts. He had ever paid them, or understood that they were not truly his debts..

It was cruel and harsh to kill innocent men and women for the sins of their ancestors. but the dying witchdoctor came from a worldview in which men and women were not individuals but members of their clan or tribe, and any member of it could be called to account for the sins of any other member. You may call it barbaric and cruel, until you remembered the circumstances in which the curse was cast... And remember that the moral development that allowed you to see individuals instead of members of a clan or family was due to the leisure and ease bought with the wealth created by slaves such as the one who had cast the punishing spell. Having been treated in such a cruel and barbaric fashion, was it surprising that his answer was equally cruel an barbaric?

But what mattered was that he was no longer the avenging angel. The _Peggy Green_ had reached port. Its sailors and slaves had been set free. That debt was paid.

And now he had a whole life ahead of him...

Would his life continue or end now that his usefulness was over? Would his curse be gone as it was no longer needed to keep him alive until was needed? His hunger told him that it was not so, not yet...

He was just as where he was a week ago... But now he knew what he was, why he was that, and that he was free.

Free...

That's when he saw her again, and his heart ached for her. if only she too could set free...

She was painting. Bitter, locked dup, her brushstrokes firm and precise.

She nodded at Barnabas. "I was wondering when you'd show up.:

He came closer "You still paint by night?"

"Yes. It is quiet and peaceful. Not many people watching and talking nonsense, like "pretty" or "artistic".

He looked at the painting. He wondered how she could do it, illuminating herself with a flashlight. "you paint the sea, now."

"Seems so." It was breaking waves and desolate, jagged rocks. There was violence in there, too.

He looked at her "You can't be in this pain, not for so long." he told her softly "you have to let it go."

"Does it make you uncomfortable?"

"It helps no one."

"It hurts no one, either."

"Except you."

"What is it to you if it hurts me? I mean nothing to you, Neither do my children."

"I can share your pain."

"No need to. It is not as if they were killed by a totalitarian society. Argentina is merely an authoritarian one, so it does not matter if it kidnaps, tortures and murders people. They are anti-Communist allies, and everything is OK. The victims do not matter. I do not matter to you... Wrong. I do. I am a source of blood to you."

"I voted for Carter, not Reagan."

She shrugged. "But you thought him naive... he did not understood the way the world works. Human Rights is a pipe dream, only."

"I care about you."

"You soothe your conscience saying that. The way you soothe your conscience letting me come in. After my children were killed you throw me a bone. Let me stay in this out of the way place and paint pictures than on one appreciates..." She pulled down her collar. "come, feed, and let you be gone."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Elizabeth felt a pang looking at Collinwood. /She thought that she would never see it again... as she had once thought she would never leave it.

"Anything wrong?" Adam asked her.

"No... only too many memories."

"Yes. Memories." Adam's face darkened. He too had memories. Unpleasant memories.

"I was once the mistress of Collinwood." Elizabeth smiled sadly "There was a time when that was very important to me." she took her husband's hand. "not anymore... but it took me so long. So many years wasted."

Adam squeezed her hand affectionately. As a dutiful son... "Come Liz, stop mourning the past."

"I have to tell Carolyn that I am here. Barnabas too."

It took Adam great self-control not to react to Barnabas's name.

"You will do it tomorrow. Now we have to unpack."

* * *

Why is she so important to you?" Julia asked when he returned to Wyncliffe. "She does not want your help. Why do you insist?"

"I have to help her."

"Why?"

"She reminds me of the way I used to be. I know how much she hurts. I have been in that dark place myself. If I could be helped, so can she."

"It will not be easy. You have enough work trying to help Tammy and trying to find Urien."

"I know, Julia but... But I took her blood. I have been inside her mind. And I _know_.. I know what kind of place she comes from. I have been in Parallel Time. I have seen the handiwork of men like Captain Todd and Sergeant Haskell.."

"I know" Julia paled "I do know what happens there. I had a friend there, who was disappeared by the government. I am trying to put pressure though channels... And I know of other things... I try not to think about if, because if I did I could not function. And I need to function. You need to function. And Barnabas, not everyone can be helped."

"I was a much more hopeless case, Julia and you took me in. Let me pay it forward with her."

"Barnabas..." what argument could she offer him that it was hopeless, that she did not want his help, that some things cannot be fixed? Except that he was proof that nothing was hopeless, that those who do not want help need to be helped, and that what cannot be fixed, can be...

* * *

Iris was self-possessed, frighteningly so. No one could have gone through what she had and remained as untouched as she seemed to be.

"Mrs. White. I want to give you again my sincere apologies for the way I misjudged you, the situation, and your sister. I was wrong and you were right. And you paid dearly for my mistake.

Iris just shook her head. "I misjudged her too. I did not believe she could be capable of doing what she did... She and Delia..." she tensed up suddenly "what is going to happen to them?"

"They will remain in Wyncliffe for quite a while."

"Good! I hope they rot there!"

The violence that she put in those words convinced George that indeed her self-possession was only a mask.

"What about the boy, Peter?" she made herself calm again. "will I become his guardian now?"

"Yes. But he should remain in Dr. Hoffman's care. Or any appropriate therapist. He needs lots of treatment for what he went through."

Her expression froze "I want to take him home."

"You'll have to ask Dr. Hoffman when that will be possible."

"I want to do it now."

"Mrs. White, any child who has gone through what Peter has gone through would be severely disturbed. You can't give him the treatment he needs at home."

There was a barely visible spasm in Iris' mouth. "He is my nephew. He is my family. My only family now."

"No one disputes that. But it is Dr. Hoffman's professional opinion. Peter is not well enough to face life outside of an institution."

Iris stiffened. George saw her fight for control and achieve it momentarily. He felt an urge to tell her to let got, that there was no shame in crying and accepting that a terrible, unendurable thing had happened to her.

But he could not. He was not in the position to offer advice. And he lacked Barnabas' nosiness to offer it in spite of anything.

He wondered how long it would take her to break down. He remembered how long it had taken Julia. Years, actually, but when it happened it had been painful to watch.

One thing for sure. She should not take Peter home with her.

* * *

Tammy lied on her bed, her face turned away from Joe who was still trying to somehow reach her. He had almost give up.

He had put his hand on her shoulder, trying to reach her. She jumped as if she had received an electric shock and pushed him away.

She looked at him with hatred filled eyes, Silently.

"I am not your enemy, Tammy" Joe protested "Nobody is."

She turned around and stared at the ceiling.

Joe knew that he had nothing to say. No, not that he lacked the words, but that he knew how useless they would be on someone who refused to listen.

He still argued, angry with her and himself. Why did she blame him? It had not been him on that ship He had noting to do with the trade. Why blame him for it?"

"Joe, come here." Barnabas said from outside. " I think we need to talk."

Joe went out. "She is even worse than Maggie was." he said.

"And Maggie recovered. So will she."

"Maggie did not recover thanks to you."

"No. And I doubt that I am the one to help Tammy now. Wrong color. And she blames me for it. And in a sense she is right."

"I can understand she hating you. You were Garth's boss, after all. But why me?"

"You are angry with her.? Were you angry with Maggie when she was sick and would not recognize you?"

"No... that was... that was different... Say, you don not mind talking about that anymore?"

"Yes, I can. Time has a way to heal everything. Even what you thought could not be healed, ever."

"And Tammy can be healed to?"

"Yes. But I want you to understand the nature of her trauma, and why she rejects you."

"What is it to understand?"

"That of all the things that could have happened to her, this is the worst. You can't imagine what she went through. And, even if you and I were to go through he same experience, it would no be the same. It would not be one of our recurrent nightmares come to life. The slave trade is as much a part of the collective unconscious for blacks as the Holocaust is for Jews. They know it in their bones. And to be submitted to it again, as if years had passed for nothing..."Barnabas shook his head. "We can have no idea what it was like"

Joe was silent. "But I only want to help her."

"And you are hurt because she rejects you?"

"Yes."

"You have a right to feel hurt. Same as I. We have no right to let our hurt influence our decisions. Or to let her know of it. "

Joe looked at him. "Do you think that she can recover?"

"I know that if she doesn't it won't be for lack of trying."

* * *

Urien was immobile, oblivious to everything around him, while Nicholas removed the floor planks.

He had held Tom Jennings the same way, under the floor. He could hold Urien the same way. It might be more difficult, since Urien was alive and required some minimal care to keep his so. But the idea was the same.

He would not use Urien as he had Tom Jennings. He would not let him out so often. After all, he did not have Tom's way of moving quickly and getting away from trouble.

He meant to use him. And he meant to achieve the mask of Baal for himself.

At least he could feed off Urien's life force to increase his powers, which were too weak otherwise. He would retain Urien like that until the mask was his, then he'd turn Urien into a living zombie and send him off to kill his enemies. Angelique, Megan, Barnabas, Carolyn, Quentin, Derek Pearce, David, Chris, Julia... none of them would be spared.

* * *

Iris stirred her coffee, conscious of the shaking of her wrists. Must not lose control, she told herself. Not lose control.

She gritted her teeth. She would show them. Barnabas. Megan, Julia, the sheriff. They had told her not to worry about Violet. They had laughed at her and now...

She remembered Simon's hand on her, his smirk, his words. If she lived to be a thousand, she would not forget that.

Garth had worked for Barnabas, hadn't he? Sure, afterwards, Barnabas had had a change of heart. But too late for her and Tammy.

Tammy. What she had heard of her was not good. Not good at all. Still in shock. Probably would stay there.

Well, that was not going to happen to her. She would be strong. She would show them!

She enumerated her wrongs. She had given her heart to Barnabas. She even had had her shop looted because of him. But was he grateful? He was not. Instead he just bugged her to be kind and considerate with he ones who had done that to her. Not only that, when she had tried to help him, give him some advice that he sorely needed, he had turned away from her, courting that reporter, not seeing that all she cared about was getting a story for herself. Then he was gone into Parallel Time. Should be grateful that it was only that. And she had warned him. And when he came back, did he come to see her? Did he acknowledge that she had been right? No, he hadn't. All he did was worry for the girl he had found there, Roxanne Drew. Who had thrown him over, as anybody with a sound mind should. At last he remembered that she existed. He had tried to make believe that nothing had happened between them and tried to move in on her again, scaring Violet out of her wits in doing so (Not that Violet did not deserve it). And then when she willingly gave him another chance, he just turned her down cold. Told her that at last he had found someone who loved him as he needed to be loved. A wonderful thing to say to your ex-lover, certainly. Whoever that new lover was, she hoped that she could survive having her heart broken, too.

She took a small sip of the coffee. Bitter. She poured sugar into it, not bothering to count how much. She stirred it and tried again. A bit too sweet. But drinkable.

...What Simon Garth had done to her. How he had used her... And if he had been able to land he would have sold her as a concubine for some harem...

The hot coffee splashed her. She looked at her hands. They were shaking.

With an effort she put the cup down. her hands still shook. She sobbed, trying to get hold of herself.

After a few minutes she managed it. She got back to her coffee, watching her hands. They were almost steady now. No one could tell. The coffee was somewhat colder. And too sweet. She drank it all in one gulp.

She was going to make it. She had to.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Jake looked at Tammy, and then back to Barnabas.

"Why me?" he asked sarcastically "Because I am of her same color as she is?"

"Yes." Barnabas admitted "she won't accept anyone else. Do you know what happened to her?"

"Sure, kind of wild sounded. A slave ship from the past."

"It is true. She was held there with the... the others. And she blames me for it."

"_You_?" Jake said with irony. "Or course , it was _Your_ ship."

"Yes. It was." Barnabas admitted "so she's angry with me. I want to help her, but she won't listen to me. Maybe you can get her to react."

"She pointed her gun at me." Jake mused "She and Joe Haskell. She said that she and Haskell were just friends, but it was more than that."

"At that time you had to do what Roxanne wanted, didn't you?"

Jake looked away. "That has nothing to do with it!"

"It has everything to do with it. Tammy was doing something that she did not want Roxanne to know. You would have told Roxanne anything she asked you, wouldn't you? So they had to lie to you."

Jake grumbled, looking down.

"You had to be deceived, because Roxanne had to be deceived. You could not have helped betraying her to Roxanne."

"She and that fellow Haskell" Jake spat out. "a zebra couple."

"So you felt personally hurt because she preferred a honky to you, is that it?"

Jake shrugged.

"Oh, boy.." Barnabas could not think of a more intelligent comment.

Jake shrugged again.

Barnabas' face changed expression. "How are your classes doing?"

"I am getting good grades, why?"

"You don't intend to remain an orderly forever."

"Of course not I do not lack ambition, no matter what some people say."

"You want to stay here as a professional." Barnabas'' eyes bore into him.

"Hell, if you can, I can too."

"There is not reason why you should not do it."

"Glad to see it that way." Jake's voice was full of sarcasm. "That's white of you. Specially since you haven't got half the courses I got. But you have the right color, of course."

"There is more to it than book learning."

"Like what?"

"Like willingness to put aside your personal feelings to help your patient. Like the ability to forget your own concerns when you are on the job."

"You are speaking about Tammy, of course. And you are telling me that if I do what you say you will help me become a professional?"

"For what my help is worth, yes. Do you think that you are emotionally equipped to deal with her?"

Jake shot a murderous look at Barnabas. "You area twisting my arm behind my back is that it?"

"I care about Tammy."

Jake shook his head, half angry, half amused. "All right, you win. I'll see what I can do for her."

* * *

"Why did we have to come here?" The woman asked, irritated.

"They said it was a nice place, quaint."

"Quaint!" the woman snorted. "quaint! You have the weirdest ideas. Of all the places that we could have gone to, you had to choose this one."

The man sighed wearily "It reminds me of the place I grew up in."

The woman kept grumbling. "I don't see the point of coming to the U.S.A. to see this. We have better beaches than this back home.

"At least Carlos seems to be enjoying it." he indicated the boy running on the sand.

Above, on the rocks, Norma, the painter watched them, a malicious smile on her face.

"So, of all the places, you chose this spot for your vacation, Captain Nunez " she said between clenched teeth. "Well, maybe I can make it a memorable one."

She looked at the little boy. He own boy had been like that, once.

Nunez was going to find for himself how much it hurt.

* * *

Yolanda entered the cottage where Nicholas Blair was staying.

"I do not think that my coming here was a good idea." she said. "Mrs. Collins will eventually suspect me. Roger trusts me even less than before, and so how can I get him to admit that he was still married to Angelique when she wed Uncle Schuyller.?"

Nicholas nodded "How much do you know about Angelique?" he asked, mildly.

"She's an adventuress. She deceived my uncle She was probably involved in his death."

"I believe that there is more to her... Do you believe in witches?"

"Witches?"

"You are skeptical. But I have seen so many things."

"But Angelique..."

"My child, I know her for too long" and as he spoke, he took Yolanda's hand.

Something in his manner alarmed her. He had changed. He was not the slightly seedy character he had seemed at first.

Nicholas saw the shadow cross her face. She was doubting him. He shrugged. There was no point in playing this charade any longer. Not since he could get enough power by draining Urien's life force.

Slowly he raised his arm above her head. She jumped, startled, but that did not stop his movements. A few passes, awkward as they were with hooks instead of hands, and Yolanda was rooted to the spot. She was afraid now. She had begun to understand Nicholas' powers.

"Yes, Yolanda, there are such things as witches." he spoke, happy to know that the power was indeed in him. "both male and female. Sometimes the male witch is called a warlock, which I am."

He was talking too much.; Bragging. He had to watch that. It was one of those bad habit which he had picked in his drinking days.

Those days were gone. He was himself again. He had power and soon he would have even more. And this time he would not lose it.

"Yolanda, you will obey me now." he commanded her. "You will not need to come here, you will not need to see me or hear my voice to know my will. You will know it, and that will be enough."

He led her to the center of the room. From drawers he took needles, a small alcohol bottle, matches, and others things that he needed.

"Pit your right hand over the table."

She did so. She had no will to resist him, even if there was a way...

"I could bind you with a pendant, or with any kind of jewel or ribbon. But it could get lost. String breaks so easily. So I will do better. It will become part of your flesh. Turn your hand up."

She did so, and he applied alcohol to the wrist. The he stuck a needled in her flesh.

She shivered and made a small sound of pain, but her hand remained steady. More needles went into her, drawing fine droplets of blood as they went in.

'Yes, /This is it." Nicholas straightened up after placing the last needle. "the tail of the dragon. When this pattern is burned into your flesh, you will be mine to command."

He used the matches to heat up the needles until they glowed read, searing the flesh in which they were embedded.

"It is done." he said at last. "You will now do as I say, always."

He pulled out the needles, cleaned the wounds and bandaged the wrist. "It anyone asks, you touched a hot stove. Keep it covered for a while."

"Yes, master."

A smile crossed Nicholas' face. No one had called him 'master' for a long time. Well, it was time they started doing it again.

* * *

Sandy helped her children into the car.

"You are going to stay with us now? You are not going to leave us again?"

"No, I won't. Ever."

"You swear it!"

"I swear it! I will not leave either of you again."

She could see what her absence had done to them. How could she had left them?"

It was Chris' fault. It was Megan's...

* * *

Carolyn stood nervously at the entrance. She was the mistress of Collinwood., the head of the family business. He mother had been in the wrong and she in the right. She had been hurt by her mother...

Yet, now, going to see her mother, she felt like a little girl again, looking for approval. as if... as if she was little Carolyn who had done something naughty.

It was ridiculous. She was too old to react like that. Yet, so it was.

Adam opened the door. His expression changed strangely when he saw her, but then he smiled, a smile wide and cordial enough.

"Carolyn" he said "you have not changed much."

"Don't lie." she said to him. "I have changed and not for the better." she would have made a crack as to what had changed her, but she restrained herself. She had promised to herself that she would make no scenes.

Adam studied her. Some strange feelings were creeping in him. He could see in her the effects of his eloping with her mother. He had never seen them, and he wondered if it was for the best.

He liked Liz, which had prevented his revenge for being as complete as he had wished. He could not make Liz suffer for his irregular 'birth'.

And it should have been the same with Carolyn. Carolyn had been kind to him. So had David. They should be exempt from his desire to settle accounts with Barnabas and Julia. Only it was not easy.

"Do you want to see your mother?"

Carolyn nodded. "Yes. Please."

"I'll see if she is up." Adam went to the door. "she's not been well, lately."

"Is he sick?" Carolyn asked with concern.

Adam hesitated "Just tired."

"Tired?"

"Nothing serious." he lied.

Carolyn waited. Her mother... she was getting old. She WAS old. She could hardly believe it. She still saw her, with her strong will and quiet dignity. She could not grow old, could she? She would always be her mother, strong, imperious, always making he feel like a little girl.

But if she had seen how Uncle Roger aged, why not her mother?

"She will see you now." Adam said, returning to her.

He led her to Elizabeth's bedroom. Carolyn felt her heart beat faster as she approached the door.

"Mother?" she asked, coming in.

Elizabeth raises herself up. "Carolyn?" she asked, her voice feeble.

She was so think... Carolyn fought back her tears as she looked at her mother.

"So you have forgiven your naughty mother?" Elizabeth's imperious manner did not depart her, as she surveyed her only daughter. "You have grown, haven't you?"

"I now take care of the family business." Carolyn answered. "I am good at it."

"And you are married and have a child."

"Adopted. I can't have children of my own."

"What's his name? Edward?"

"Edmund."

"Yes, Edmund." she smiled ruefully "my memory isn't what it used to be. And your husband?"

"Quentin."

"Yes, of course. That makes you Carolyn Collins. It had to be him or Barnabas, of course."

Carolyn tensed up.

"Oh, I don't blame you. I never could accept that Roger should be the one to carry on the family name, when I was doing a much better job than him of handling the family business. I should have done what you did. Find a poor Collins cousin and marry him. I could have had so much if I had been smart like you. Of course, if it had not been for Paul you would not have been born. Still, it seems such a waste..

"Mother!" Carolyn said. "I..."

What did she want to say? As it asking her mother's forgiveness for her past coldness? Was it seeking reassurance that her mother still loved her and that nothing had changed? But things had changed, her mother had changed...her tears did not let her see. Still, she knew that Liz was too thin and too wrinkled...


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"You haven't found anything about Urien?" Barnabas knew how much that sounded like whining. Well, if it did. so much the worse. He was worried about the boy and George had promised to do his best.

If only he could track him following the bond he had created when he had taken Urien's blood. But after Quentin's attempt at killing him he had found that all his bonds had been weakened , or even erased. That stake through his body had done damage that pulling it out did not cure.

At the other end of the line George wondered what to say. Urien had disappeared, like swallowed up by the ground. It did not surprise him. A kid like that knew how to disappear. He was underage, but still, he was a veteran of the streets.

"But how could he disappear without a trace?" Barnabas insisted.

"He knows how to do it. He's got experience."

"You think that he might be dead?"

"It is possible."

"No!" Barnabas said vehemently. "If he were dead, I'd know somehow."

"How, since you cannot trace him?"

"I would know. I have a faint connection to him still. Not enough to trace him, but enough to know that he is alive."

"All right. I will keep looking form him. But don't expect miracles."

A bitter smile was in Barnabas' mouth. "He was learning to read. He had begun to believe in himself. I can't believe that all that went for nothing."

George did not know how to answer that.

"You did your best by him." he finally said.

"But my best was not good enough. I failed him."

George nodded, even if Barnabas could not see him. If was one of those things for which there was no help.

"George, can do you something for me? The painter, Norma Alvarez. I told you about her, didn't I."

"Yes, you did."

"Would you mind checking up on her for me?'"

* * *

The boy waded in cold water

"Don't go in too far." his mother admonished him.

"He isn't so far away" the man said "He'll never become a man if you fuss over him like that."

The woman's face closed and she looked away "All right, he's your son."

Up on the rocks, her paints still unopened, the canvas on the easel, Norma Alvarez studied them, eyes filled with hatred.

"Mrs. Alvarez" someone spoke behind her. "I would not do that."

She turned around.

"It does no good, Mrs. Alvarez" George Brant told her. "It is not worth it."

"What is not wroth it?": she laughed hollowly "What could you know about it?"

"Barnabas Collins told me about you and your family."

"He did? So, on top of being a vampire, he's a blabbermouth."

"He's worried about you."

"Why? I am past hurting."

"No one is."

She laughed again and he knew that he had said something stupid. "Of course, I might marry again, get pregnant again, raise children again, so that they too can be tortured to death. Is that what you mean?"

"No... I don't mean that. It... it is just that I don't want you to do something stupid."

"As opposed to doing something smart? Tell me, what is the smart thing to do? Throw myself off Widow's Hill? I don't see why I go on living."

"But you do."

They looked at each other. George was the one who turned his eyes away firsts.

"I know what you want to do." he lied. He did not know it, but he was afraid of what it might be.

"So? You want to stop me? You will have to kill me for that. And you are just too decent."

Yes, she was right. There were ways to stop her, but he would take none of them, Part of him wanted her to do what she wanted, and to get away with it.

"Do you know who that one is?" she pointed at the man below "do you know what he does?"

George sighed "He is an officer in the Argentine Army, who is engaged in the fight against subversives."

"And you know what that means? You know what he does? You are not like the rest. You do read and find out more than they want you to know."

"Yes." he hesitated. "I never had children, so I can have no idea of how much you hurt."

"I don't even know where my children are buried... if they are buried. I only know that somewhere they kept their hand in Mason jars for identification." she grimaced "You area a good man, George Brant. But you cannot understand, anymore than Barnabas Collins does."

* * *

Zeb was waiting for her in her office, smoking one cigarette after another.

"Well, Hello, Dr. Hoffman" he said, coldly

"Hello, Dr. King." Now that her guilt feelings were under control she had to admit to herself that she did not like Zeb very much.

"I have business to discuss with you, doctor."

"About what?"

"Iris White and her nephew. Call me an interested bystander. I do not like the idea of exposing that boy to Barnabas Collins."

Julia looked at him, wondering what he meant. "I don't see why you should be involved in this. You have no legal standing where it comes to them."

"I have made it my business. And, doctor Hoffman, you manner is too arrogant for a murderess that beat the rap."

Julia went white.

"Barnabas should keep away from the boy if he knows what's good for him. tell him that I know about him and Brant " he spat out. "Tell him that I know that he's a pervert. Tell him that I know why the Yost kid ran away. tell him that he's not going to get his filthy hands on Peter."

Julia's jaw had dropped at the absurdity of the accusation. "Are you suggesting... but it is ridiculous."

"He's a fag, isn't he? Same as Brant. I don't want him near that boy."

"I can assure you that Barnabas has no designs on the boy whatsoever. He's a therapist, and a good one."

"Take him off the case. I am serious, doctor. I do not want the boy abused."

"Neither does Barnabas" Julia said softly "he's never hurt a child."

"Don't give me that talk about fags not being child molesters. They are all of them. He did that to Urien Yost"

There was such intensity in his voice that Julia shook. he meant it.

"How can I convince you that you are wrong?"

"Just make sure that neither Barnabas nor Brant goes near that boy."

* * *

Quentin sat on the beach, digging into the sand with a stick. Damn it! Damn it! Why did Magda have to interfere? What was he supposed to do?

Caught between Magda and Carl.

Barnabas did not deserve to live. But how could he convince Magda of it?

And how could he get Carl to let go of him without Barnabas' corpse?

He needed a way out. And there were none.

In the old times he would have gone to Evan Hanley and Evan would have found a way. But Hanley had been dead for too long and whatever rituals were needed, he had forgotten the little he knew.

He had never bothered to make a serious study of anything. Too much hard work. To boring. Just skim and go on to more interesting stuff. If he needed anything, he only had to ask for it. With Collins money behind him, there were plenty of people willing to accommodate him.

Only the money was gone, now. and it with the help that he had taken for granted.

No one would make things easy for him now. And he did not know how to make things happen.

So he was trapped in Collinsport, a good husband to Carolyn.

If he were capable of patience, of sustained cunning, he would just wait until Carolyn died of old age and inherit from her. There was no danger of his wasting his youth. But cunning and waiting were alien to him.

He had never stayed at one place long. he had never held on to anybody for long. His love affairs had been passionate but short. Likewise all that he had ever set out to do. He could be forceful in getting what he wanted. If that could be achieved in a couple of months. If it took longer, he lost interest. Only his efforts to rid himself of the werewolf curse had lasted longer, but that was something that he could not avoid.

If he did not find a way to kill Barnabas soon, he'd probably forget all about it;.

This self-knowledge sickened him. he knew all that was wrong with him, and he could do nothing about it.

With a chill, he realized that this was what Carl really wanted, not Barnabas' death.

He drew another circle in the sand. In the end is my beginning. He did not know where he had heard it. It sounded so romantic the. Now he could see how it applied to him and it as not romantic at all. he could scuttle, plot, scrape for what he could get. And what was the result? Back to the starting point.

* * *

"Peter seems more animated today." Barnabas commented to Julia.

"Yes, he seems coming out of shock at last."

"Seems almost recovered."

"You said it. 'seems' and 'almost'. Which is not the same as is recovered." Julia crossed her arms "Iris will insist on getting her out of here more than ever."

"She is his aunt, his closest relative, and her legal guardian" Barnabas reminded her. "Legally, she can do it."

"Can't you talk with her?"

"I don't think that she wants to talk to me. Julia, I worry about her. She may be close to a nervous breakdown."

"Yes. She's on the verge of a nervous breakdown, you said it. That's exactly what Peter does not need. How can you stand by and do nothing?"

"I have played the bull in the china shop long enough. I can't imagine a way of stopping her that would do less harm than good."

"Maybe you didn't think hard enough. Barnabas, I am serious about that child. And with Zeb coming here with his accusations, I can see more problems ahead."

"Zeb?"

"He knows about you and George. He think that he knows why Urien ran away. He thinks that you have designs on Peter."

"On Peter! That's ridiculous!"

"Tell that to Zeb, not me. He believes that Urien ran away because you sexually abused him. You can expect him to make more and more trouble."

"He's never forgiven me. " Barnabas said ruefully. "Not about killing Dave, but for telling him the truth about him and keeping him from destroying George. Ironic, isn't it?"

"Leave the irony for later. We have a problem with Peter."

"I know."

"I know! I know! Can't you say anything else? Can't you do something for a change? I am tired of you being so understanding and doing nothing about it."

Barnabas smiled wearily. He knew the symptoms. Julia would blame him for all her troubles for about half an hour, then get back to normal and deal rationally with the problem. He had learned not to pay attention to her bitter words, even when they stung deeply.

"You don't know how you stick in my throat" she said. "I must have been crazy, taking care of you. You did nothing but complicate my life needlessly."

As the abuse mounted Barnabas thought philosophically at least now she spoke of it. Bitter as her words were, the worst of the poison had left them. Julia would always grumble at him and complain because he either did too much or too little. But she would no longer lacerate herself to punish him.

He felt great tenderness for her. It as strange the human mind. It collected everything ad the things you wanted the most to hold on, you managed t lose, and the things that you should lose, you never managed to. And the more you thought you had it licked, the more it crept on your...

Still, did she have to be so sharp, so cruel, in the words she used?


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"How are you and Adam doing?" Carolyn wondered who she managed to speak of him to his mother and remain so civilized.

"Adam?" Liz snorted "You did not lose much, let me tell you. You would have never become Carolyn Collins with him. Barnabas would have never acknowledge him, you know."

The bitterness with which Liz answered her hit Carolyn hard. "Is he not a good husband to you?"

"Has to be." Liz said tartly "I hold the purse strings I have no illusions about Adam. I have no illusions about you, either."

"Mother!"

"I am no acting very maternal, am I? Well, I was maternal for quite a while. Too long. I raised you and David. And what thanks did I get, from you or anyone?" she reached for the glass of water by her bedside and sipped from it. "So, if I shock you, it is just too bad. I am done with you. I am done with everything"

* * *

"There is something eating you up." George said to him.

He had just gotten back from Wyncliffe for a couple of days. Those absences of his were a big irritant in his relationship with George, but they figured that they made up for it when they finally came together.

Only Barnabas did not seem to have his heart in it.

"Eating? No, it us just an old ache. Nothing I can't handle."

"Julia gave you a bad time?"

"Yes."

"What was it this time? You interfered with one of her patients?"

"I refused to interfere. She was putting pressure on me do 'do something' about Iris so that Peter can stay at Wyncliffe. The problem is that each time that Julia gets frustrated with me, she usually manages to bring back old business, at least indirectly. I can't blame her for it, and I don't think that she realizes what she is doing. But it is Maggie's story all over again. Maggie found out how easily she could control me by humming a certain tune, and she liked it. I am afraid that sooner or later Julia will do the same."

"You can stop Iris."

"Yes., I can. The trick is to do it without hurting her."

"Without hurting yourself, you mean."

"Yes. That too. George, why does it still hurt? It's been about a year. I have done all that could be possibly be expected of me. I have taken care of Julia. I have kept Zeb in one piece. I kept Zeb from destroying you. I... I even came to you. " he saw George's expression and added. "not that I see it as a duty. I do want this. "But still it should be enough. Specially now that I know why it had to be him."

"It is enough."

"So why does it still hurt?"

"I still hurt, sometimes." he took Barnabas' face and looked at him. "But I can live with it. So can you. It is not such a terrible pain that will tear you apart."

"Yes." Barnabas admitted "You are right. The promise was never that it would not hurt. Only that I would get better at dealing with it...I guess that what gets me is that I suspect that she's right about Peter and Iris. I should be able to do something about it."

"There is no legal way for you do it."

"I know that Iris is going to have a nervous breakdown soon. She's overdue for it. Why can't I give it a little push so that it happens before she pulls Peter off?"

"Why can't you?"

"Because of professional ethics. I may not have a degree. but I take my job seriously. There is a reason why there are boundaries to the profession, boundaries that I is very dangerous for me to cross. There is a chance that Iris never has a breakdown. There is a chance that her breakdown may be permanent. I just cannot do it. And Julia cannot do it either. She cannot even ask outright for it either. Only hint..."

"And you..."

"I am caught."

George massaged Barnabas' shoulders. "How bad is the situation?"

"Peter needs a lot of therapy still. And Iris... she did not precisely recover from her experiences, either. And her relationship with Peter was never very good."

"She called him a brat that need to be kicked. Several times in front of witnesses. I know... I know. That was before Violet moved in with Delia."

"Peter seems to somehow respond to me. Maybe he misses having a father figure around."

"From what I understand, his father was a real creep."

"Yes. He was. It doesn't make thing any easier. And on top of it, Zeb wants to save the kid from me. Of all the ways he could choose to annoy me, why this one?"

* * *

Zeb sat in front of Iris, his face pale, his lips thinning to a dark line.

"You mean Barnabas and the sheriff?... The two of them?"

"Seems impossible, doesn't it?"

She bit her lips. No, it was unbelievable... yet it made sense...

Her own sister had betrayed her. Barnabas had betrayed her. Had that not been his ship? Why be surprised at the rest of it?

Zeb felt the sickness in him, as he did each time that he thought of George Brant. He had first seduced Uncle Dave, made him wallow in filth... in perversion... and now Barnabas...

The two of them... they deserved each other.

She saw the anger and pain in his eyes. There was a sense of having been betrayed in them. The same as she felt now.

They sat down, face to face, neither of them trusting himself to speak without screaming.

Finally Iris dared it. "And now I can't take Peter out of Wyncliffe, they tell me."

Zeb scowled. "That's why I wanted to talk to you. You know why Barnabas wants to hold on to him, don't you?"

"You don't think..." but she thought it too.

"Why do you think that the Yost boy ran away?'

Iris closed her fists. "Not Peter. They are not doing that to him."

"I want to make sure they won't. I will help you as much as I can."

* * *

Barnabas had not said it outright, but it was up to him. he had put him on the spot.

George wondered if Barnabas knew what he was doing.

If only child abuse cases did not affect him the way they did. If he could be more sure of Iris's condition. If Barnabas would let him know more of what he really wanted.

He was the one to do it. He cared about everyone involved. It was his nature to do _something_, even if it skirted illegality. He did not see the situation in Julia's or Barnabas' terms. He could look at Iris more dispassionately, less like she was a patient and more like she was a ticking bomb, ready to go at any moment.

Maybe it was a professional deformation. he knew that he had, up to a certain extent. to dehumanize those he handled. He'd not be able to otherwise to face them, gun in hand, ready to pull the trigger if there was a need to...

And he had a dark side that he had to keep fed that way...

It was up to him. Iris would start screaming and screaming any day now. He could do nothing about that. But he could do something about Peter.

* * *

Why would her mother hate her so? Carolyn knew that maybe she deserved it. Some of it. But this way?

The other time she had seen her it had not bee like that. Why the change? Had she said something that she shouldn't? Had the cordiality of the previous occasions been a sham?

She was afraid to go back to her again.

* * *

Yolanda walked across the beach, the brand on her wrist pulsating as she approached Quentin.

"Hello, Miss Oates." he said, listlessly.

"Hello, Mr. Collins." she smiled fetchingly. "Call me Yolanda, please."

"Well, Yolanda." Quentin smiled wistfully" And you can call me Quentin."

She sat close to him. "It is very beautiful here, isn't it?"

Quentin nodded. "For a while, yes. But at this moment I feel that if you have seen a wave breaking, you have seen them all."

"You are joking, surely."

"No. I am not."

"Then why stay here?"

"Why not? It is soothing, in a way. And I have nothing better to do."

"Is there anything better that you _can't_ do?"

"Kind of."

"So why not try for it, anyway? Maybe you'll find out that you can, after all."

"It is not that easy. Nothing is."

"Maybe I can help you."

"You can't. No one can." Quentin shrugged.

Yolanda grinned. I can do certain things. I have certain... powers."

Quentin stared at her with curiosity. Roger had not been so wrong about her, then.

"You have... powers?" he asked ironically "and what would those powers be? Can you read tea leaves?"

"More than that.. Much more than that. If you want to, I will demonstrate them to you."

In his cottage, Nicholas watched how Yolanda was ensnaring Quentin, and how Quentin's meager defenses were down.

Long ago, Quentin himself had tried to raise the Devil. His name at that time had been Evan Hanley, not Nicholas Blair. A botched attempt... It had been a bad period for him, punished by his master by diminished powers and a failing memory...

That was besides the point. Botched or not, Quentin had been willing enough then. He should probably be willing enough now.

He stopped watching. There was something else that he wanted to do. Something that he feared as much as desired it.

Prudence dictated that he wait until he had secured the mask of Baal. But he could not wait another hour. He'd have to take his chances now.

He took Urien from his hiding place and let him lie on his own bed. He still looked asleep, blissfully unaware of the world around him.

Nicholas towered over him. He dropped off the hooks at the end of his arms and began moving his bare stumps. It was harder, making passes this way, but he could do it. And it became easier and easier as he felt Urien's life force flow into him, strengthening his powers.

Urien kept sinking into a deeper and deeper lethargy as his energy was drained. Only a tiny spark remained in him, to keep him alive.

Nicholas grinned, delighting in the feeling of power in him. He had not felt like his for so long...

Getting his power back was his first act of revenge against Barnabas. For Barnabas cared for this boy and should he know what had happened to him, it would be a dagger in his heart. Even his unexplained absence was painful enough.

It was only the beginning for Barnabas. And Angelique. And Carolyn. And the rest of them.

There was a tingling coming up his spine and through his arms. He beamed, knowing what it was. He waved his arms as his stumps bathed themselves in light.

He looked again at Urien, in mock gratitude, the looked back at the fire burning at the end of his stumps. It was painful, but also exhilarating. He threw back his head and laughed as the hands formed themselves.

He had his hands again! He was whole again and the power was in him!

No one would stop him now!

* * *

Norma lifted the mattress from her bed. The gun was still under it. She had got it a while ago, long before she could hope that a captain of the Argentine Army would show up here with his family.

She wondered what had made her get the gun. Probably she had meant to kill herself.

But that would not be needed now. She was not going to use it on herself. She ws going to use in on Nunez, somehow. She was going to find a way to make hum pay for Marta and Esteban.

She wanted to make him scream. She wanted to make him beg, as she had begged once. As her children had begged.

She was through with begging now.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Megan nodded sympathetically "You know what you are risking with this. Barnabas might not forgive you for it, even if he ask you indirectly. You know, like Henry II and Becket."

George shrugged "I'll take my chances. And no matter what he says, he'll forgive me in the end."

"I can give you an out. "Megan grinned "Let's say that the spell Angelique casts on her is to make sure that _when, if_ Iris breaks down, it will be where there will be others to restrain her and keep her from hurting herself, or starting a fire, or something like that. Barnabas might buy that. He will give you the benefit of the doubt, even if he thinks that Angelique overstepped herself."

George grinned back "You think of everything."

"That's why I charge such high fees."

* * *

Pearl pulled at Barnabas' nose, scratching it with her tiny hand.

"No, Pearl, no." Barnabas said softly, taking the tiny hand away "not that, don't hurt Uncle Barnabas." he pulled the little hand away. When he released it, she returned to scratch his nose.

She was just a little baby. It would take her time to learn...

She found his ears and began pulling at the, sounding delighted at them.

Little Pearl... he had not held a baby in his arms for quite a long time. Not since he had held Sarah. then he had come to believe that it was undignified to make such a fuss over a baby. Then, with his curse, he had come to fear that he might harm a child. So he had cut himself from all this.

"Well, look at you!" Carolyn said, from the door.

"Beautiful, isn't she?" he beamed at her. "And she's on her best behavior now. Last time, I was trying to make her sleep and she vomited over me. It was quite messy."

"It is Willie's baby, isn't it?"

"Pearl Loomis. And she is a rare gem indeed."

Pearl turned from Barnabas and began pulling at Carolyn's hair. She also made noises that were not precisely gurgles.

"Is she starting to talk?"

"She's getting there."

"Can I hold her?"

Barnabas looked at her, a bit uncertain. "Well, as long as you don't try to adopt her."

Her face changed and he was ashamed of himself.

"I am sorry" he said quietly "I should not have said that."

Carolyn grimaced, accepting the apology. "It still hurts, doesn't it? That I stole Edmund from you."

"I can't blame you for it. It was for the best. He was not happy with me. Then he saw me in my coffin and was terrified of me. No, I could not have held him, and I should be thankful that you were there to give him a home. Here, take her." he handed Pearl to Carolyn.

Carolyn held her.

"Don't try to make her sleep. She's awake and enjoying herself."

Pearl reached for more of Carolyn's hair and began pulling it in earnest.

"Ouch! That hurts!"

"Yes, she still has to learn not to do these things. I have been trying to teach her."

"Well, she's just a little baby."

"That's what I tell Willie and Louella when then accuse me of spoiling her."

"Do you baby-sit often?"

"As often as I can. I enjoy having her, and it lets Willie and Louella have some time for themselves."

"She seems a happy and bright child."

"She's going to be the first woman President."

"If Maggie does not beat her to it." her expression changed. "Barnabas, have you seen mother?"

"Yes. Have you?"

"How did you find her?"

"Very thin, very weak. I think that she's sick and does not want to say anything about it."

"But... the things she said.. I talked to her... and what she said to me..."

"What did she say?"

"Bitter things. The things I was afraid to hear when I went to see her. She said the same things about Adam... but it was not the same."

No, Adam had married Liz as part of his plan of revenge against Barnabas,. Liz must have sensed it and accepted it cynically.

"I mean, if she turned against Adam, well, he had been looking for it. But turn against me? You have no idea how close we were. She never went out, looking over her husband's grave, or what she thought was his grave. She lived her life through me. She spoiled me rotten, I am afraid. And I was also angry with her, because we never went anywhere. I depended on her utterly..." she laughed "I am getting Freudian, am I not? Blaming all my problems on my mother..."

"Everyone does that a bit. Even I do it. but it is not my mother I blame, but my father."

"Maybe I exaggerate. Still, shutting herself up as she did was not good for either of us. We were both damaged, but still...

Barnabas nodded softly "What did she tell you?"

"That she considered raising me a complete waste of time."

Barnabas shook hiss head. "She could not have said that."

She did. And maybe she's right. Even if I became what I became because of the way I was raised, still... I mean, look a the things I did. The way I made everybody's life difficult. Taking it out on you because I could not get back at her."

Barnabas recognized the tone, and it saddened him. He put his arm around her shoulders. "No, Carolyn, it is over. Don't punish yourself anymore."

"Is it over? Really? Have I changed?"

'You have."

"I can't live it down. That's why mother said what she did."

"Don't be silly. What have you done that is so unforgivable? You haven't killed anyone."

"I set the birds on you. I used the riot to get Davenport lynched. I stole Edmund from you."

"No permanent harm was done. And you are better for Edmund that I could have been."

"I am not half as good a mother as she way. And she says that I was a waste of her time. She cared so much for her, and all I did was break her heart again and again. And now she's had enough."

"Carolyn, you must have misunderstood her. I will talk to her and have it cleared up."

* * *

Megan lifted the phone receiver. It was Chris at the other end.

"How are you doing down there?"

"Quite well, You know that Amy may be getting married soon." there was a note of chagrin in Chris' voice.

"Well, she's old enough for that. How's the prospective brother-in-law?"

"A bit dull."

"Well, you were quite dull yourself. Angelique once called you a born C.P.A."

"She did." his voiced sobered up. "Megan, I am worried about Sandy."

"She left you, I know."

"Yes. First she blamed herself for Herb's death, then she blamed me. I could see it coming."

"She's here now."

"Have you seen her?" Chris asked anxiously.

"No. She made it clear that she did not want to meet me."

"And I imagine that it is the same with Barnabas and George. Specially since she thinks that George set up Herb."

"He didn't"

"It doesn't matter. She's in danger. She and the kids."

"Danger? What kind of danger?"

"Herself. She was never cured of the werewolf curse, you know. That does not matter if you can get a romp on all fours regularly. But I am afraid that she stopped doing that. And then one day it will explode in her and..."

Megan bit her lip "You think that she will not want to do that anymore because it reminds her of you?"

"I am afraid so. She might get into her head the idea that she does not need it anymore. She might try to deny that she ever was a werewolf... I don't know. I am scared for her."

"It scares me to." Megan acknowledged. "I will see what I can do."

* * *

Quentin hesitated. If she had the power she claimed to have... If she was a witch like Angelique., then she had the power to stop Carl and Magda.

"You want me to show you want I can do?"

Quentin nodded, not trusting himself to say the right thing.

"We can do it tomorrow night. In the East Wing. That should be secluded enough."

* * *

It was useless arguing with Iris. He knew that expression that she wore. He had seen it too often.

Still, he had to try. For Peter's sake and her own.

"Iris. I have seen Peter. He's doing better, much better. But still he's not well enough to go home."

"Not yet out of the woodwork, eh?'

"That's right."

"Same as me?' he face was ugly with unconcealed rage. "I am now well enough to take care of him, is that it?"

"No one can. Not outside of Wyncliffe. He needs professional help desperately. He has been damaged by all the adults he's had contact with. Not only Delia and Violet. all the best wishes in then world will not undo that kind of damage."

"And what about my damage? " Iris voice kept mounting, in spite of her efforts to keep it level "I have been hurt, too."

"I know that you have." Barnabas' ten betrayed his concern. "I wish you accepted help."

She laughed, pleased to see him wince. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? You'd put me in a straightjacket and send me away. So that I cannot come between you and your lady love? Only he's no lady, is he? You don't want me to tell everybody who it is? But in the end you'll treat him like you treated me. It will make no difference what he is or isn't. I should not even be jealous of the dumb bastard."

"Iris, you were the one who said you wanted nothing permanent." he tried to defend himself.

She turned he back to him. "You lied to me. You used me."

A shiver ran through him. Angelique had said those words, or others very close to those. She had been right, and he had paid for it..

He forced himself not think along those lines. It was not the same now. And Iris did not have the power to hurt him as Angelique had. Except for her tongue.

She continued talking, her back turned to him. "I believed you." she dug her fingernails into her upper arms. "I cared about you. I thought that you cared about me. But you didn't You threw me over for that Falchi kid. And then for the Drew girl. I always came last, didn't I?"

In spite of his better judgment he protested. "I wasn't me making love to Phillip in front of the fireplace."

Her hands unclenched and slowly she began to turn around. "How dare you? How... dare...you? You know why I did it. You know that it was Angelique's doing... I did not take Phillip on my own, the way you did with Maggie."

The fury in her eyes was growing, but, stung, he did not notice it. "No matter whose fault it was, you and I drifted apart for a long time. When I got close to Oriana we were not together anymore. You were out of town. I had no reason not to..."

"No reason not to!" She shouted. Her hands were beginning to tremble. "You could not wait to get into her drawers!"

"Iris..."

She gave him a look of pure hatred as she moved towards him.

"I hate you!" she spat out.

He nodded.

"Don't act so understanding, you son of a bitch!" she hollered. "Don't you dare treat me like you treat the nuts at the clinic! I am no patient!"

"Iris, I am not.." he tried to calm her, to reach her somehow.

She jumped out of his reach, as he eyes began to glaze. Her hand found the kitchen knife and brandished it.

"I know that you can't be killed!" she shouted. "But you can be crippled! And I will do it! "

"Iris..."

She pulled up her lips in a snarl, and threw himself at him, knife held high.

"Iris! Don't!" he caught her arm as she hollered and kicked. He managed to subdue her at last.

"I hate you! I hate you!" Iris repeated over and over, sweating profusely, and her eyes bulging from the strain.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"She hates me" Barnabas looked far away into the distance "have I hurt her so badly, then?"

"Simon Garth hurt her" George was getting impatient. "Violet and Delia hurt her. You are closer than they are, so she goes after you."

"We were so close, once."

George was irritated. He had given Barnabas what he wanted, a way to keep Iris from taking Peter away, and putting Iris where she could be helped. Why did he have to be so unhappy about it?

He could not stand it anymore He got up from the bed and started dressing again.

"George..."

"Barnabas " he tried to sound calm, though he felt far from it. "You evidently want to just talk, and feel miserable, and be comforted. We do to need to take our clothes for that. I can listen to your unhappiness very well dressed up."

"It is not that I do not want..."

"It is I who do not want a partner who will just like down, brood and talk about what bothers him, while I just tend to his body. If you want it, we'll do it. But you have to want it. And you do not want it."

Barnabas shook his head "Are you so jealous of her, then?"

"Jealous?"

"Yes. Jealous of Iris."

"What I am is irritated. So Iris and Tammy are too hurt and damaged to show you proper gratitude... Or what you had to do affected you more than you thought it did. Well, it happens. You want to brood, do so. You want to bemoan, who want me to sympathize, but all means. But not when we are in bed together."

* * *

She had it all planned. She cleaned the gun and loaded it. She might not use it, but if she needed it, it would be ready. She slipped it under her clothes and looked at herself in the mirror. No revealing bulge.

She gathered her paints and canvas. It should look like she had gone painting as she always did. She picked up the tubes that she would be using. Dark, sober colors. And the bright reds.: Vermillion, scarlet, crimson, ruby, oxblood. Blood. the color of blood, bright red, spurting from the body. And not the way Barnabas did it, but with pain, tearing at the flesh until death was a blessing.

"Please, let me die:"

She had heard her daughter scream that. With luck Nunez would hear the same words.

"Oh, my baby, my baby" she sobbed, her tears falling. "I will make \them pay. He won't get away with it. I promise...

If they were at their usual place at the beach... then it might happen.

* * *

Liz looked so thin... and her eyes... the way they looked at him...

"Homecoming is not what I expected" she said, tartly "Not what you expected, either, I take it."

"I saw Carolyn," Barnabas said, softly.

"And she's heartbroken because I wasn't her mommy, because I won't treat her like a little girl again."

"She was upset."

"Yes." Liz became thoughtful "I did not mean to do it that way. But she wanted so much to be a little girl again... And I can't do that. I don't have the time."

"You rejected her because she would not act like an adult?"

"It made me angry. I know. I spent so much time telling you and everybody that I want to be reconciled with my daughter, and when I get a chance to do so, I blow it. " she sighed "You must have a low opinion of me."

"I would never do that. I know you too well."

"You do know me?" There was a shrill note in Elizabeth's voice. How much do you know? I did try to kill my husband."

"But you did not. Your just believed you did and punished yourself terribly for it."

"And I stole my daughter's fiancé. And then Adam and me... Barnabas, he's not old. He does not seem to get old. And I... I am wasting away... Damn it!" she shouted. "I can't forgive you for it, for not growing old as I do."

Barnabas said nothing to this.

"I am dying, Barnabas. Inoperable cancer. I have a few months, no more. And I barely had time to enjoy myself. I wasted my youth on Paul Stoddard and the basement of Collinwood. I only had my old age, and now it's too late... Adam... it is not his fault. It is not Carolyn's fault. It is no one's fault. But why me?"

Barnabas took her hands and held them.

"Yes, you are very understanding. You can afford to be. You'll never get cancer. You don't have to listen to the doctors telling you that you get only a few months more. You don't know what it is like!" she began to sob. "Why me? Why now? Couldn't I have had a few more years? Why couldn't I? It is unfair, so unfair."

"Yes, it is" Barnabas agreed.

She sobbed uncontrollably a few more minutes, Barnabas stroking the back of her head.

Eventually she straightened up. "Will you give me my pills?" she asked in a broken voice.

Barnabas handed her the vial.

She swallowed a couple of them. "I need these." she said plaintively "To keep off most of the pain. You'd think that they'd give you enough painkillers, but no. They don't want you to get hooked as you die. So.."

Barnabas studied the vial. "Maybe I can get you something. From Julia or Kenneth."

"Do they have heroin? It's the best for this, I understand."

"For that I'd have to go to George. Maybe Kenneth has some. I have to find out."

"You'll do that?" she smiled, then looked at her pills. I was told that these have side effects. They make you moody and irrational. Maybe that's why I snapped at Carolyn and at you. Why I give Adam a hard time.":

"I understand." he hesitated, before asking the next question. "do you want me to tell Carolyn of this? She should know...

Liz looked at him. "Do what you think best."

* * *

Yolanda placed the candle over the small table. There were other candles around them, giving her face a reddish glow. her sleeve had pulled back, letting Quentin see her brand. Yet his curiosity would not be aroused by it. She was a witch and this was just one more of her mysteries.

He recalled the last time that he had performed a ceremony like this, with Evan Hanley... how far ago was that! It seemed to have happened to a different Quentin.

But he had never stopped being himself. He had just grown bored with those games, Or found the ineffective. He had gone with Barnabas, not because he liked him much, but because he believed him to be the greater power. He had given up his brother to him, which he had never done for Hanley.

He had never changed at all. The portrait changed for him. He just grew bored and found new interests, new adventures. And when he got bored with those, he dropped them unceremoniously.

Even his experience as a born again Christian had been that. He had wondered what it would be like to play Trasks's game. Only it had not come out as expected. he had ended up married to Carolyn, and the present day Trask was not like his ancestors had been.

Yolanda put the shawl over her head and came closer to the flame.

"Put your concerns in the fire." she told him.

* * *

It had been a long day. He worried about Norma Alvarez and what she could do. He doubted that words could sway her.

Maybe he could get Nunez to go to a different spot, to "avoid an international incident" or whatever excuse worked..

He was surprised to see Julia come in. She preferred not to enter his office.. /Too many bad memoirs...

"I have a problem.": she stated, bluntly. "It is about Peter."

"Peter?" I thought that it was settled. Iris is under psychiatric care, and he will be made a ward of the state, and that means that you get to keep custody of him."

"That's the problem. He has a legal guardian. Before she cracked up, Iris signed papers naming Zeb King as his guardian."

He should have seen it coming. he thought - he had waited too long to act...

"He wants to take Peter away from Wyncliffe. Says that Barnabas is a bad influence on him. He... he knows about you and Barnabas, and will use it, if he has to. he honestly believes that Barnabas... that he would use Peter that way.

Cold fury filled George. Of course, the old chestnut. Homosexual mans child molester, no ifs, ands or buts,

He controlled himself. There had to be away to help Julia.

"Well, we could make the case that Iris was already of unsound mind when she signed the papers."

"Yes. I thought of that. But do you want to fight him? With what he knows about you? Unhappily you don't have job security. You have to be reelected. Patterson thought that he had his job for life, then suddenly the voters turned against him, and he was out. Just like that.

She was right. He had not come out of the closet because of it. He had not sense of shame or guilt over it. But he loved his job, more than he loved telling the truth about himself. And now the chickens were coming home to roost.

* * *

Quentin stared at the flame at the top of the candles, and back to Yolanda's face. For a moment the thought of Laura... Laura's power was derived from flame. Suppose this was her way of getting back? Would she reward him then?

Maybe Laura could protect him from both Carl and Magda. It was a gamble that he was taking.

"This is not what you think" Yolanda spoke "the being whom you call Laura Murdock has no share in this."

How had he know what he was thinking? He had not spoken of it, had he?"

"Do not be startled." this time she was slightly mocking "Someone of your experience should not be surprised by the powers I show."

He nodded, too dumb to speak.

"You doubted that I might have the power. I am too young. I look too inexperienced. No, Quentin Collins. No one is too young and inexperienced if the call is in them. The Master does not look on his servant with the careless eyes of a man bound by lust."

* * *

In the cottage, Nicholas spied on them with his mini-stage. And he also saw Quentin's through Yolanda's eyes. The double image was a bit disconcerting, but not overly so. Carefully he chose the words for Yolanda's mouth.

He was doing that, he, Nicholas Blair, once believed to be washed out, an alcoholic failure, destroyed by the conditions of the shadow curse that Angelique had forced on him.

It had been a long, painful climb back he did not wish to remember Vicky and the Leviathan. And now his power depended on the young fool hidden under the floor.

But not for long. Quentin would help him locate the mask of Baal, believing he was looking for it for himself. And when he got the mask... When he got the mask..

What would he do with Urien then? Make him a living zombie and send him to slaughter his enemies?

* * *

Carolyn looked a him trembling, begging him to deny what he had just said.

"She is dying." he repeated.

No... not her mother. Not like this.

"It is my fault." she said, weakly.

"No. How could it be?"

"It I had not been born she would not have minded my father running away. It was to protect me that she hit him with that poker. Had it not been for me, she would not have locked herself in."

"She loves you, Carolyn,"

"No. How could she? No one loves me. Why should she?"

"Don't be melodramatic." he admonished her. "And don't be so self-centered either."

"I am a bitch, and everyone knows it. Who can love me? Even Edmund and Roger. They have each other and they don't need me."

Barnabas dried her tears "Carolyn, your mother needs your help, your support, your love, not your self-pity. Don't fail her now."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"Something is eating you up." Barnabas told him.

"Yes." he sighed. "I am doing what I accused you of doing." It had been his own guilt feelings that had made him lash out. Now he did not feel guilty about causing Iris's breakdown, only about not doing it sooner, before she had signed guardianship over Zeb.

"Something is eating me up, too" He told him about Elizabeth and Carolyn.

"You did all you could do. It is up to them now."

"I know. Yet parts of me want to do more. It is a rotten thing to happen to Liz. She had so little time to enjoy herself. She should have had more.

"You can't help now."

"Well, I can get her painkillers. She wants heroin. There is way that you can get it.. I think that there is paperwork that can be submitted.. experimental cases... terminal cases... It will need Julia's or Kenneth's signature, but if you can help."

"I will look into it."

"And what is eating you?"

"Peter and Zeb." He told Barnabas of what Julia had said, and how Zeb could retaliate.

"He would not dare accuse us. He does not want the truth about Dave to come out. "

"Normally I would say that. But there is a child, and he is on a crusade to save him. People on a Mission from God do not think about the consequences of their actions."

Barnabas thought about it. "I do have some influence with Jessica. Maybe..."

"Barnabas" the thought struck him when he mentioned Jessica. "You are not the only therapist in the world."

"No..."

"The important thing is that Peter continues treatment. I bet Jessica can refer him to several good child therapists. If you see her, tell her to put her foot down, and say that she will not let Peter come into her house unless he is seen by a competent psychiatrist. And she then produces a list of names, none related to you or Julia. You and Julia keep insisting that he needs treatment. Then Zeb can say 'but he is under competent care now'"... and whatever misgivings we have about Zeb, in his home Peter would be exposed to a normal family life, something for which he has no experience of."

"You are right."

"So, problem solved."

"Yes... Unless it is Norma Alvarez" Barnabas got moody again.,

"The Argentinean painter?"

"Yes. You do not know what it means to be her. You can make sympathetic noises but you can't feel the emptiness, the tearing. You do not know what it is to have a rage continuously burning in you. I know. I have been there. And that's what she's going through."

"And you know, because..."

"Because I took blood from her. And I felt how it burned her. She did not mind that I took it. She only wanted me not to touch her. He could not bear any touch that might feel affectionate, or sympathetic."

"I imagine that putting her under your control ins out of the question."

"If I tried, I would get lost in her rage and her emptiness. I have been there, and I might get sucked back in. I know that pain. I know what it did to me, what it turned me into...And I am vulnerable to it."

George nodded. He was grateful that he could not share in that. He could skirt the edges of the raw tragedy that Norma brought with her, but knew that could not handle the brunt of it.

"When I fed I looked into her mind, her memories" he shivered "I know what has been done to her. Do you remember when Tom attacked Phillip, how sick that made me to know? With her it is so much worse. I can shut her out of my mind - I have to, if I want to keep on functioning. But I feel like a heel for doing so. I can feel her sorrow for her children... They arrested her with her children. She heard them scream. She heard them beg for death... And then she did not hear them anymore... Then somebody pulled strings and she was released and allowed to leave to exile... To live the rest of her life among us."

George hugged him. "It was not your doing. It was done before you met her."

"I want so much to put it right, but I cannot. The times comes when I am her. Then the pain becomes too great... So I shut her out... for a while. I know how much she hates. Her hatred might be the only thing keeping her alive."

It took a while to calm Barnabas, to make him forget about the raw wound that he had come in contact with.

"And now we have this bastard from Argentina to make things worse." Barnabas said venomously.

"I will talk to him tomorrow. Try to get him to leave town, find a nicer vacation spot and leave us alone... With him in town I feel like I am sitting on a power keg."

"She is planning something."

"No doubt about it. I am keeping watch over her."

"I have the feeling that whatever she does it will be in daylight. When I cannot do a thing, except pick up the pieces afterwards. And, part of me wants her to get Nunez. "

"Part of me does too. But I know it is wrong."

"Nunez is like Captain Todd from Parallel Time. He was always proper. He wore white gloves to executions. He was a gentleman, with a gentleman's code. Within limits." Barnabas grimaced "It was him and Haskell. Haskell was hateful, but Todd was worse. You know what I did to him?"

"You forced him to castrate himself, and then keep cutting upward?"

"To this day I haven't got a single guilt feeling about it. And I don't see why I should" he spoke slowly "You know the load of guilt that always carried, that I carry still. I never wanted to... to insult the others, even the worst by adding Todd to their number. Even Trask was better than that."

They said nothing after that. George's mind was racing. Was Barnabas considering executing Nunez himself? Helping Norma carry out her vengeance?

All he knew was that Norma was planning something. And fortunately when the sun rose Barnabas could not be doing anything stupid.

* * *

Carolyn had to see her mother again. With what Barnabas had told her...

It was unfair, so unfair.

It had been so long. She had always feared losing her mother, and now... now there was no escape.

She could now understand her own jealousy, her own possessiveness of her mother. It was not that Jason McGuire was inadequate as a prospective husband (even if he was) It was that she did not want to share her mother with anyone. Her mother could not have a life apart from her daughter.

Her mother had betrayed her. It was an unreasoning belief, coated in self-righteousness. Her mother was not her properly.

She knew that Liz had spoiled her in a misguided attempt to protect her and to atone for Paul's murder.

But having been spoiled as a child did not relieve her of responsibility now.

Adam had been engaged to her, but that was not what had hurt her. Not her mother stealing her fiancé, but her fiancé stealing her mother.

She wondered about Adam. Ever since the day that he had come back to Collinsport, trying to make it as a painter, with his canvases and paints, the scars of his face and body gone, calling himself Adam Deale Atwater, he had been a mystery. He had refused to tell what had happened to him, even since he had left Collinsport and why he had come back.

Never mind about Adam. It was her mother that mattered.

* * *

Nunez was annoyed at being called in by the sheriff as if he was some kind of criminal.

"Is that Norma Alvarez is such a problem, why not lock her up and be done with it?"

"She has done nothing. I can't arrest her. I just want to keep this place peaceful."

"So you want me to spend my vacation somewhere else?"

"It should be advisable for you to go. Anyway, you must know a lot more interesting places than this one."

"No." Nunez said stubbornly "I like it here. And then I will not cater to terrorists' whims"

'Norma Alvarez is no terrorist."

"She's related to them."

George went pale. "That would be according to your files."

"We have information about her. I am surprised that you allowed her to come into this country"

"Well, she is in. And she will remain here. As for you and your files." he made the word sound like an obscenity "I don't care for you collection of pickled hands."

"Pickled hands!" Nunez stood up stiff. "I don't know what you are talking about!"

George shrugged "As you wish."

"You have been reading the calumnies of the communist inspired media. We are fighting godless communism there. Don't you know that the communists have targeted our country for conquest?"

George shrugged again "I don't care to hear about it."

"I am not getting out of Collinsport because you are an incompetent who will not do what must be done."

* * *

Adam had stopped at the cafe for a quick bite. He knew that the people were whispering about him. Just like it used to be. But it was different now. In old times it had been his ungainly appearance, and the sense of wrongness in him. Now he was known as a painter of a certain renown, Adam Deale Atwater. And the second husband of Elizabeth Collins.

He winced. Even so, he did not like it.

Liz meant nothing to him at first. A way to hurt Barnabas, nothing more. And it had worked. He had read some of the letters that Barnabas sent to Liz. But he was fond of Liz, too, and somewhat ashamed of using her.

And she was dying, and he was feeling cheated for her sake. She did not deserve this.

Carolyn was lost to him. She would never forgive him for his desertion of her, and for stealing her mother away. And he now wanted her..

Too late for that, now. All he had left now was his vow to extract revenge from Barnabas and the others... Not Stokes, of whom he was fond... and who was dead now. And Willie, well, he did not matter much.

Getting even with Barnabas had in the end cost him as much as it did Barnabas. Julia, what was the point?

But there was someone else that he had business with. Not to seek revenge, but for something else.

* * *

The boy went before them, rather sullenly. Behind him, Nunez and his wife were again arguing why he had chose this God-forsaken place for a vacation when they could have gone to Disney World.

The boy ran ahead, wishing to avoid the arguments and his mother's nagging. If he looked busy enough, maybe they would leave him alone.

He wouldn't go swimming. Her mother would not allow it. There would be yet another argument and he did not want that.

Why did his parents fight so much? Was it his fault?

He climbed up the rocks.

"Be careful" his mother said.

"He is being careful" his father said, irritated. "Will you stop smothering him. How am I going to make a man of him this way?"

He climbed higher.

Norma saw him come up, holding her breath. She did not have to go get him. He was coming to her... It was going to be easy, for once.

There was a painter, up there. He approached her with curiosity, wondering what she was painting.

"Can I watch?" he asked her.

"Yes, you can."

He stood by her side, looking at the girl's ace on the canvas.

"She is pretty."

"Yes, very pretty."

"She looks sad."

"Does she?" Norma asked with irony.

"


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"Come on, tell me." the boy insisted "Why is she so sad?

"She's suffered much. As her brother, Esteban, did. They made them suffer. Then they killed them."

"They? Who did that?"

Norma turned to him, with an ugly smile. "Your father did, whelp. He killed them."

"Daddy?' The child asked.

"Yes. " She got up and caught the boy's arm. "And now you are going to pay for it" she twisted his arm.

The boy screamed and she began dragging him away. "Daddy! Daddy! Help me!"

The man raced up the rocks. "What happens? What's the matter?"

"Don't move, Captain Nunez" she pulled out her gun and placed against the boy's temple. "Or I'll shoot your cub."

"Are you crazy?"

"You know better than that."

He could rush her, try to wrestle they gun out of her hand. But she would shoot his child.

"You killed my children. It is fitting that I kill him."

"Are you mad?"

"I am not, Captain Nunez of the Argentina Army " she spat out the last two words. "Now it is your turn to pay."

The man gulped. "Look, if you think that I have wronged you, then take it out on me. The boy is innocent."

She laughed. "And since when did innocence did any good with the likes of you? What good being innocent did my children? And eye for an eye, Captain Nunez. A child for a child. And you have only one for two of mine.

"Daddy!" the child kept struggling.

"Calm down, son" Nunez spoke to him. "I will fix this."

"You will not. Give me the keys to your car, o I'll shoot him now."

The mother had come up, too. "What is this?" she asked. "What does she want?"

"Revenge, no more, no less."

"Not on the child." the man protested.

"Not unless you do as I do. Your keys, Captain Nunez."

Nunez threw her the car keys.

She caught them in the air, her other hand steady on the gun.

"Now turn around and lie down?"

They did. They had no other choice. She dragged the boy to the car and pushed him inside.

"And shut up!" she struck him as she started the car. "I don't want to hear anything from you!"

* * *

Liz smiled warmly at Roger. She felt better now. George had, as Barnabas had asked her, given her some confiscated heroin and it made all the difference in the world.

"You look well." she told Roger.

"I manage." Roger felt uncomfortable facing his sister. They had had many arguments in the past, too many things left unsaid, too many that should have remained unsaid and were not. And now there was barely time to make it all right again.

"How's David?"

"All right, I guess."

"You guess?"

"I have stopped being David's father. Surely, by now, the only father he recognizes is Barnabas."

"I... I am sorry."

"Well, I was warned that it would happen if I didn't treat David better. I didn't believe it, and now that bloodsucker stole my son. But I stole his own kid."

"His own kid?"

"Edmund."

"Yes. I heard about him."

"He's a great kid. We have a lot of fun together. Or at least we did until Miss Oates came in."

"Miss Oates, that's the governess, is that it?"

"I don't want her."

She looked at her brother accusingly. "You are not pretending to be a ghost again, I hope."

Roger shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Here he was, getting lectured by his older sister. "No, I don't do that anymore." he admitted. "but there are times when I feel like it."

"Roger...Roger..." Liz shook her head. "What is it with your and governesses?"

Roger's answer was to take Liz's hand and kiss it.

"Don't get mushy" she said severely. "Don't make me feel sorry for myself."

But there was no stopping Roger now. Childhood scenes came to him. His hopes and dreams as a young man. Liz's hopes and dreams. And what was left of them.

"Liz" his voice was choked up. "I never told you that I loved you, nor how much."

"There you go." Liz said, reprovingly " Mushy" But there was affection this time in her words. "You could never get anything right. Nor could I... somehow I think that that's what being a Collins means. Making so many mistakes, one after another."

"Maybe you are right." Roger agreed "that would explain the monumental streak of bad luck the family has been having. It would explain our marriages."

"We certainly picked up the wrong people, didn't we?"

"Yes, we did."

"Do you remember when we were kid's and played in the empty rooms?"

"Yes, we were wild then. Remember the fun we had?""

"I remember the tricks we used to play on our governess. And about the time you tried to kill her by putting the wire across the path so that she would decapitate herself as she biked by."

"I didn't!" Roger protested.

"Oh, yes, You did."

* * *

The boy whimpered "Please, don't hit me again"

"Shut up! I'll do whatever I want with you! Get over the bed."

The boy did.

"Yes. Lie down." she spoke as she undressed him and bound him spread eagled to the bed. "Yes, that's it. That's how my children were treated. That is what your father does. Or did you not know that?"

She stepped back and lit a cigarette "I don't hover an electric prod nor any of his equipment. But I can improvise."

* * *

George Brant was with Nunez and his wife, cursing himself silently. He had know that something like this was coming. He was given warnings, he had promised himself to watch over Norma... But all he had done was warn Nunez, who had disregarded his warning...

Maybe he _had_ wanted Norma to do this. He had read enough about what went on in Argentina, and what Barnabas had told him about Norma and about men like Nunez had made him unwilling to check on Norma as he should have...

He had hoped that Norma would get her revenge...

He had not stopped to think that Norma might go for the child.

If anything happened to the child...

Nunez kept biting his nails. "She has not right to do that. She's mad. Why else would she do that? She's a madwoman..."

George wanted to commiserate with him. But he could not. He knew what had been done to Norma's children. That Nunez expressed moral outrage now was too much.

But monstrous as Nunez was, he was a father who loved his son.

The phone rang and Nunez raced to pick it up.

"Captain Nunez." Norma said calmly.

"Yes. It is me. Look, tell me what you want, I'll do it. Just let my son go."

"Captain Nunez. I had two children once. A boy and a girl. Then one day, you people picked us up. I was beaten up, but not much. You were not interested in me. I could hear my children screaming. I heard my daughter beg while you... you did your job with her."

"Mrs... I do not know your last name."

"Look into your records and you'll find it. Never mind. I swore to myself that one day I'd get you, at least one of you. You should not do those things to other people's children. Not when you have children of your own. Now you are going to listen." With a quick movement she pressed her cigarette into the boy's tight.

The scream tore through Nunez.

"What are you doing, you bitch!"

"What you did to my children." she laughed harshly "no more, no less. And I have barely started. You are going to listen, and listen, and listen."

"No! Wait! I'll give anything your want! Just let him go!"

Another scream came. And another.

"You beg nicely, don't you? I begged to. Much good it did to me. Much good may it do to you."

Sick to his stomach George took the receiver. "Norma, don't do this. This is me, George Brant. Please, don't do this to a child. Not to yourself."

"Do you know what kind of a monster is standing next to you?"

"Do you want to be like he is? Do you want to be a monster too? He is trash that no decent garbage can will want to be see with. But you are better."

Nunez started to protest, but George silenced him with a gesture. "You are better than that, Norma. And you know that the child is innocent, no matter how guilty the father is."

Norma's voice softened. "There was a time when I would have agreed with you, when I would have said what you did. But that was before... No, Brant, I told you before. You are a nice man, but you don't understand at all."

"Don't. for your own sake, don't"

"Brant, the reason why I did not kill myself was because I knew that one day I would be able to do this. Now give the receiver back to Nunez."

"No. Because the moment he can hear you, you'll hurt the boy again.." And with this he slammed the receiver and turned towards Nunez and his wife.

"Why did you do that?" the wife complained "Now we don't know what she wants."

"I know what she wants. I suppose you know about sadists" he told Nunez" being one yourself.

"What do you mean?" Nunez spluttered.

"You know what I mean" George shrugged "And the sad part is that your son will be paying for it. It should have been your." he was angry at himself for his miscalculation, for wanting Norma to have her revenge, for not foreseeing what the consequences would be. Did he have to play at being God?

Yet he had looked into Norma's eyes and found so much pain and despair as he hoped never to experience himself. ... You are a very nice man, Brant, but you don't understand...

He looked at his watch. Barnabas would not get up yet. Too long a time for the boy... he hoped that he was right. That Norma would not hurt him if Nunez could not hear it.

"What are you doing?" Nunez demanded, on the verge of hysteria. "why aren't you doing something?"

"I am waiting for someone who can help us. She listens to him."

"And in the meantime, she has him... that madwoman.. that..."

"She will not hurt him unless you can listen" George said, with more assurance than he felt.

"And you think that she will listen to... to whoever it is that you are waiting for?"

"She will. I am sure of it."

Nunez tone became crafty. "You seem to know plenty about her, don't you? And you did nothing to stop her. I want to know why?"

George glared at him. "This is not one of your torture chambers, and I am not strapped down, so use another tone on me."

He repented his outburst as soon as he said it. The man was a father whose son was in great danger.

There was a terrible division in his soul. There was the memory of Norma's haunted eyes, the things that Barnabas has confided about her... then it was the boy's screams over the phone.

"You re on her side, aren't you?" Nunez asked pointedly.

George stared at the distance, fighting the sickness in him. "I always believe that when you push someone out of the window, you are responsible for what he does son the way down."

"So?"

"You know full well what I am talking about. You can't drive a person to the kind of desperation she's in and then be surprised when you find yourself at the receiving end." that was not the way to talk to someone in distress, but George could not stop. "You mock them, don't you? When they come ask you what happened to their children, you call them madwomen. Well, now you are learning what it feels like."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Quentin felt unsure about this. In spite of Yolanda's assurances, he might end up facing Laura again, and he did not want that. He had enough with Carl, and Magda, thank you.

But Yolanda could be right. She could help him.

"Do you really want to try again?" she asked him, as if knowing what his answer might be. I can arrange it for tonight."

"Not... not with candles." he stammered. "not with fire."

"Are you afraid of candles?" she seemed amused.

Quentin nodded.

"I don't see why you should be, but if you don't trust them, I may not be able to help you."

"It is hopeless?"

"There might be another way. Something that can be done in the daytime."

"Like right now?"

"Yes. It is a bit more difficult, but it can be done."

She fumbled with her dress and took out a small piece of glass, the kind that hung from chandeliers.

"Concentrate on this? she ordered him. "you'll begin to see what you need to know in it."

Quentin squinted and tried to decide whether he actually saw anything at all.

"You are not concentrating enough." she said, accusingly. "You think that this is only a game.

"No, I don't"

"For how long have you treated occult knowledge as a toy?" she continued "Even after you learned better? You are not serious enough, Quentin Collins."

Quentin smiled sheepishly, hoping that his natural charm would stop her tirade.

It didn't. She lectured him good and proper on the attitude to be taken for this most serious pursuit.

Quentin, more chastened this time, tried hard to concentrate and for this he was rewarded with a feeling of strangeness and the sensation that there was something that he could see with the corner of his eye.

"It is coming. I can feel it coming." she said.

Quentin nodded. "There is something here? Can you see what it is?"

"I can't Only you can see. Concentrate harder."

Quentin tried. "It seems to be a face...somebody's face. I can't tell if it is a man or a woman. But... not properly a face... no, it is a statue... no... a mask... It is a golden mask!"

Yolanda nodded.

"But how can a mask help me?" Quentin pouted "Yes, it is gold, but it is not gold that I need. I need a way to escape form Carl and the others."

"The answer is still there."

"I am not hunting for treasure!" Quentin said, irritated. "I don't care for your golden mask or other treasures. I only want to be free of Carl!"

* * *

The child whimpered as Norma covered him with a blanked. She hated him, but still he would not let him catch cold.

"And shut up, do you understand?"

"Are you going to hurt me again? Please don't"

"I told you to shut up." she hit him again, disappointed at feeling no satisfaction, not as much as she wanted, anyway. Then she went to the phone and dialed again.

"Captain Nunez" she said coldly "I thought that you might want news of your son."

"He has done nothing to you! Let him go!"

Nunez sounded tired and... afraid? It felt strange to hear that in his voice. And officer of the Argentine Army, afraid...

"I have plenty of rags and gasoline. If I see anyone approach I will set him on fire."

"No!" Nunez hollered. "Don't do that!"

"Will you beg me for your son's life?"

"Is that what you want? To hear me beg?"

"Yes!"

"Then I beg of you, let him go. Don't hurt him. He's innocent."

"And what good does being innocent do to those who fall in your hands?"

"He has done nothing to you!"

"He lives. He is your son, that's enough."

"Do you want to see me crawl on my knees?"

"You love him that much, then?"

"Yes! I love him!"

"More than I loved my children?" she laughed again. "Why should your son be spared when my children weren't? Why do you suddenly discover that there is some truth to all that humanitarian crap? As you said yourself, it is a dirty war. It is, and your son is a casualty of it. Go back to Argentina and tell them to give you a medal for sacrificing a son for your country."

"Bitch! Whore! Witch! I should have killed you!"

"You should, but you didn't! And now it is too late for it. Good luck, Captain Nunez."

Nunez looked at the phone receiver with horror. He had singed his son's death warrant. he had not meant to yell like that. Maybe he had pushed her over the edge.

"She's going to kill him." the woman said, numbly "she is going to."

George shook his head. "That's what you want, to hear you scream and beg. As long as he can get that, the boy will be kept alive." he looked at his watch "He should be here pretty soon."

Except that he first would have to feed. For a moment he resented that, but it made no sense. He rarely missed breakfast himself, even in emergencies, even if it was some stale pastry that he chewed in his car. And Barnabas knew better than anyone the danger of skipping meals.

Still, he had to take the phone and reach him at the Old House. If needed, Barnabas could come here immediately and he'd brief him while he drank.

"Who are you calling?" the woman asked belligerently. George realized that he did not know her name.

"He's someone who can help us." he tried to sound reassuring "he's someone that Norma will listen to."

"Norma! Listen to him!" Nunez said with bitterness "He's on a first name basis with a psychopath!"

"Norma's crazy, yes. But who made her so?" he said cuttingly, then tried to placate them. "Look, I am trying to solve this and I think I found a way."

"Found a way?" Nunez asked angrily But the fury was somewhat out of him, replaced by fear.

Barnabas picked up the phone. He had not gone out yet. George gave him a succinct outline of what the emergency was, asking him to come at once to where he was, with the Nunezes.

"Immediately. Don't stop for anything else. You can grab a bite while I am briefing you."

He went to a different room to receive him. It would not to do for the Nunezes to know what "grabbing a bite" meant for Barnabas. He briefed him all right. He could feel Barnabas' discomfort and pain as he did so.

Finally Barnabas was able to talk.

"She said that she would burn the child alive?"

"She did. She's gone over the edge. God, Nunez is a son of a bitch. But the child... she will listen to you. You have taken blood from her, so you should have some control over her.

"Some, not much. But I will try."

George had to introduce Barnabas to Nunez and his wife. A brief introduction, no more, then Barnabas was on his way.

"Be careful" George told him. "I know how you feel about her, but don't forget that there is a child involved."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Norma looked away from the crying boy. Why was it that all children sounded the same when they wept? He sounded so much like her own children... what right had the wolf cub to sound like that? He was not like them, not at all. he was the son of a monster. Would grow up to be a monster himself. The world would be a better place without him.

"Norma." Barnabas said softly, appearing next to her.

"You!" she stood up, eyes full of madness "what do you want?"

"To talk to you."

"About letting him go." she pointed at her captive with her head.

"He's only a child. he's done you no harm."

"His father did."

"You can't punish the child for that."

"Why not? They do it all the time."

"But you are better than that."

"Better? Or just dumber? What's the use of believing in that rot when others don't and all goes well with them? I am tired of being in the losing end. Maybe if I do what they do I'll get lucky too."

"It is still wrong."

"Wrong is just a word. Like all the empty words that I once believed in. No, all that there is, is power and the ability to hurt those around you. Do unto others before they do unto you. That's all you need to know in this this world. I did not know it and paid for it. I have noting left to lose, but Nunez has."

"Whatever the father has done, the child has no part in it.":

"Ten, twenty years from now, he will."

"You don't know that."

"It is better to kill vermin when they are young."

"People are not vermin."

"I was taught otherwise and I had good teachers."

Barnabas studied her, saw the anger and desperation pouring out of her eyes. he knew that desperation so well... When Willie had begged him to release Maggie, if he had any compassion at all... He knew what his answer had been. The same as Norma's answer.

He had not control over her. Scared of the darkness of her mind, scared that it may drag him down, he had cut all contact with her, even the minimal one that he used just for self-protection. He had thus deprived himself of the one weapon he needed to top Norma's madness.

"Norma, it is wrong." he pleaded again. "it is only a child. Just a child. And he's scared. he doesn't know what he did wrong. Have you never seen a scared child, Norma? A little child, asking for his mother."

"A wolf cub" Norma said with relish "calling for the bitch that bore it."

Barnabas shook his head. "You know better than that, Norma. Deep down you know it."

"I don't want to know it!"

"But you do." he extended his hand. "let me help you. Let the child go."

"They did not release my children. Why should I release him?"

"Because you are better than they are. Than they could ever be."

She laughed, harshly, bitterly. "You actually believe in forgiveness, in praying for those who persecute you?"

"I do."

"It isn't true. It just isn't true."

"You can make it true."

"You have no idea of what it is like."

"But I do, Norma. I have felt the way you feel now. And worse... Norma, it does not help. No matter how much you hurt others, your own pain does not go away."

"I don't want to be rid of my pain."

Barnabas moved towards the boy.

"Don't come close or I'll set fire to him.

There was indeed an odor of gasoline. And the boy's frightened eyes met his.

"I have done nothing." the boy pleaded " please, let me go. I will tell no one."

Barnabas looked at Norma. "You will not do that." he said, calmly.

"I will. And you know it."

He would have killed Maggie, too, if Sarah had not intervened. And Sarah was not here anymore..

He knew her pain. He had felt it himself. Part of him wanted her to get away with it. He had shared of her pain and desperation. Why not share in her revenge? George had told him about Nunez, what he was like. He remembered Captain Todd in Parallel Time. Sergeant Haskell...

Nunez was no better...

Then the boy whimpered and he was ashamed of himself.

He looked at the boy. How could he hesitate? What kind of monster was he to play those games with a helpless child?

"Don't try anything." she insisted, shrilly. "Or I'll..."

Barnabas looked at her with sadness "It is over, Norma. I am taking him back with me. You know that you cannot stop me."

"I know nothing of the sort!" he pointed her gun at Barnabas "You come any closer and I'll shoot!"

Barnabas stood between the gun and the child "Give me the gun, please."

She kept the gun steady. "I got silver bullets in it." she said."

Barnabas shook his head. "You are lying."

"I am not."

"You are." he moved towards her, being careful to keep himself in the line of fire, shielding the helpless boy with his body. "give me the gun before you hurt yourself."

She pulled the trigger once, and as the bullet hit him harmlessly, Barnabas caught her.

She twisted and tried to kick.

Then there was another shot.

He felt the warm wetness touch him, he smelled the fresh blood, and she was limp in his arms...

He lifted her, but she was dead already. The bullet had passed cleanly through the heart. There were still a few twitches, but Norma was dead.

"I am sorry." he spoke to her. "I could not let you do that. Anything else I would have accepted, but not the child."

* * *

Quentin shook his head in disgust. A treasure hunt! That was all that she offered him. He had been a fool to believe that she could help him.

At a different time he would have been quite willing. but not now. As long as Carl was watching over his shoulder, treasure was useless to him.

Still...

He had wanted so much for this to be it. It would have meant his freedom, the end of his problems...

Nicholas watched from his cottage, a weary smile in his lips. Quentin was a bit slow, wasn't he? It would take some doing to get the idea in his stupid head that the "treasure' was the answer to his problems.

He directed Yolanda to stand, twisting her necklace pointing at Quentin's room, as she wove the dream that would invade his brain.

"Sleep be in you." she said "sleep fill your eyes, and when it does, may you find the path before you."

Quentin felt his eyelids close and he felt himself drift.

... There was a weight on him, And malevolent eyes staring...

"You thought that you could escape me?" Carl's voice reached him. Cold. Cruel...

For a moment he wondered if it was truly Carl speaking. Carl and been irresponsible, and slightly demented. But this cruelty he had never known. No, it did not feel like Carl...

"Well, Quentin, are you going to get up now?"

Quentin did. To his surprise he was now in a well lit garden, with well trimmed hedges around him, forming a maze.

He walked around the green shrubbery, the large flowers, the fruit-laden trees...

It was beautiful. Calm and peaceful. Idyllic was the word.

And fear kept cutting through him as he walked through the bright paths. Maybe it was the strange almost-sound, maybe the slightly purple haze...

He moved on. He could not hear Carl now... Carl his younger brother. The baby of the family... Compared to Carl, he was an adult. He always looked down on Carl... Maybe that was why he had been so willing to have him murdered.

And now he would pay for it.

But in this lovely garden? In broad daylight?

"Off with his head!"

Then he saw them. Giant playing cards, with heads, arms and legs sticking out.

From "Alice in Wonderland'... the gardeners, the Queen of Hearts, who had the same solution for every problem...

The cards seized him. It seemed impossible that their matchsticks arms could be so strong...

They pushed him towards the Queen.

"Off with his had!" she said, waving her scepter, then, having passed sentence, she deigned to look at him.

"Jenny!" Quentin shouted "what are you doing here?"

The guards pushed him away.

"Wait!" Jenny said. "Don't cut off his head. That would be too easy for him."

She led them through the maze, giggling girlishly. And from behind came Carl's laughter.

"Follow the yellow brick road" the guards chanted "follow the yellow brick road."

"Here it is." Jenny said.

It was his portrait, grown huge, twice as tall as he was. And so hideous...

His clothes were stripped from him and he was pushed towards his portrait. Chains caught his wrists and ankles, spread-eagling him upright.

"Lift him." Jenny ordered.

He was raises, with his portrait, on top of a high column. The sun struck at his face, blinding him.

"Let everyone look at him. Let everyone be warned."

He was burning. The sun fell mercilessly on him. His body began to ache from the binding, and he could hear the laughter below.

And his own corrupted face loomed above him.

"No.." he pleaded. "not this."

... And Jenny was a below, playing croquet with Carl, using flamingoes for mallets.

They played a long time, Jenny pausing now and then to order more executions.

He saw the executions. The playing cards bent down and extended their heads. They hears were struck off with one blow. Then the beheaded cards would take their heads under their arms and move away. At a distance, they reattached their heads, and returned to the game.

Then it got dark. They drifted away and left him alone, on top of the column.

They had left him alone...

Thunder broke out of the sky and this face was in front of him.

It was a human face... but it was not alive.

It was a mask. A golden mask.

It floated towards him, as if hung from an invisible string.

"Why didn't you call on me?" the mask spoke "I could have helped you."

"Who are you?"

"You did not trust me." the voice boomed, reverberating around him.

Quentin strained at his bonds. "Can you help me?"

"You call on me now?"

"Please, if you can, help me."

"Help you?"

"Yes, help me."

"You refused to help me once, and thus you are chained her."

"But how could I help you?"

"You'll know how."

"I will help you." Quentin said desperately "release me and I will help you."

"Done!""

The chains fell off him and the mask floated towards him.

"Put me on!" the mask commanded "they are coming for you."

And indeed, they were. Carl, Jenny, the playing cards, even the flamingoes.

"Put me on! Hurry!"

Quentin did so, and as the metal touched his face he felt the power surge through him.

The column was descanting now, almost reaching the ground. Around it were Queen Jenny and her court.

He lifted his hand and a bolt of lighting shot from his fingers, setting the cards aflame.

He grinned and pointed his finger at the flamingoes. They burned, too. He pointed it to the shrubbery. It too burned.

There was this gaping hole in front of him. He dived into it...

...and found himself in his bed.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Norma's body was lying on the morgue. Her eyes had been closed and a sheet drawn over her naked body. She was cold and the blood had clotted on the wound.

Barnabas stood by the slab, immobile. There had been no other way. He could not allow her to hurt the child.

He felt cheated. It should not have ended this way. It should have been different.

Nunez had gotten away with it.

The door opened and George came in "So you are here."

Barnabas nodded

"Standing guard." George continued "I wish I could tell you in good conscience that you are wasting your rime, but I can't

Barnabas spoke "You wish to stand guard, too?"

"Yes. I do." It was surprisingly easy to admit it. He had had little contact with Norma himself, but what he had, had made an indelible impression on him.

They stood there silently. Barnabas thought about her. An artist. A wife and mother. Her family had been torn from her, not by an act of God, but by very respectable killers. An she lied on a slab on a foreign land, mourned only by a vampire and his lover...

"It isn't fair. It isn't"

"No, it is not." Barnabas said angrily. "Nunez should be on that slab, not her. He did it, all of it. He pushed her to desperation and mocked her still. If it had not been for the child I would have let her..." he sighed. "I do not know the boy's name. He cried in my arms as I was taking him, home, but I do not know his name. I know only Nunez and Norma."

"That's how we saw it, from the start. Nunez and Norma. The rest were innocent bystanders."

"He will be leaving soon. And he should not. He should not be allowed to get away with it."

"Don't do anything foolish"

"You are in uniform. I rather not tell you."

"I know it bothers you, that you killed her. That you killed at all. But still, you should not.."

"Yes. I killed again. And I desperately did not want to. I did not want to kill _her_. I did not mind killing Captain Todd. But her I wanted to save, and could not."

"It was an accident. You were saving the child."

"I know. But still she is dead, and I killed her. She was in no list, I was no avenging angel. Just trying to do the right thing. And she is dead..."

"Barnabas, the worst thing we did is to get caught in her pain and revenge, and close our eyes to the danger of the child, Carlos. We wanted her to get revenge. We wanted her to get Nunez. We thought it would be a clean kill, and we were ready to deal with it. But the child got in the way. After that..."

"I know. I keep thinking that if I hadn't been so afraid of getting caught in her pain, I would have forced my will on her, and I could have gotten the child safely, and kept her alive. Then I could help her. Now she died unsatisfied... and her ghost might come to haunt me, for thwarting her revenge..."

* * *

"Do you want my help?" In spite of himself, Anselm Trask could not keep from feeling smug when Megan came to him for help.

"I was wrong, Reverend. We can bicker forever, but that will not help Sandy's children."

"Sandy's children?"

"The are in danger." Megan told him succinctly what Chris had said.

"I tried talking to her, but she does not listen. Maybe she'll listen to you."

"You do not know for sure that she has stopped running on all fours."

"Let's not kid ourselves, Reverend. When she rejects something she does not stop at half- measures. You and I know something about that, don't we? Now it is me and Chris, and what we represent. And she rejects too the knowledge that she is a werewolf. I tried to talk sense to her, and she pulled a cross on me."

"But crosses do not affect you."

"But I can tell when someone does not want to listen. I could have tried to put her under my control, but she would go into hysterics. I'd rather you talk to her first, before we bring in the big guns. We have time, because if the wolf flares us it will do it at the full moon. We got time until then."

Anselm thought about it. Megan was right... One of Megan's most irritating traits was being right so often He still was sore about their last clash, but that did not excuse not helping Sandy.

* * *

'"He's going to get away with it" Barnabas repeated numbly.

"Who?" Sebastian was uninterested in Barnabas'' problems. If he had business with Angelique, he was welcome to it, but he should not expect everybody else to be equally interested.

"Nunez"

"Oh, that madwoman."

"Norma was not mad. No more than Roxanne was."

Sebastian's face darkened..."You have no call to use her name. It was you who pushed her to... to what she did.

"As Nunez pushed Norma.,,, You still have not forgiven me, really." he shrugged. "It is not an easy thing to forgive, as I find out."

"She wanted me to forgive all of you." he said numbly.

"Yes. She did... Norma did not ask to forgive anybody..."

There were tings that he wanted to talk with Sebastian, about what he was doing with Davenport, and if it was on the level. But not today. Today he was consumed with two worries. What to do about Nunez, and what to tell Angelique.

Angelique's arrival interrupted his musing.

"Well, you finally decided to meet me again. You want something."

"Yes. I do. But first I must tell you what I found about myself, about the curse and what was behind it all."

He told her of his meeting with Garth, and of the list that Megan had given him. "Did she tell you anything about it?"

"No. Only that she had information that could shatter you."

"It did. And no. It told me why the curse had to be. I was to be the avenging angel for the slaves transported in hellish ships to a life of misery. And I was to have a taste of what they endured. You were an instrument to that end."

"I... I probably was an avenging angel against the du Pres family for their treatment of slaves. They were not better and no worse than any other plantation family. And what they did was atrocious. What I knew of cruelty, I learned watching how the slaves were dealt with. So that Miss Josette could go to Paris on shopping trips. The slaves died harvesting the cane. There were babies born, and nine out of ten died before their first birthday. The work killed the slaves. A lot of them were maimed by the mill. Snakebite killed a lot of them. Their food was barely eatable. So what if they died? You could always buy more. All to make the duPres rich and spoil their innocent, useless daughter. "

"You despised Josette."

"I envied her. And I wanted to know why she should have everything and I should serve her devotedly, when she was a woman like me, and probably did not have one tenth the smarts or the skills I did."

"And though you André du Pres and the Countess saw what it was like to have your children die. Josette had to die to punish them for all the babies that died in their plantation, for all the men an women who died laboring in that hellhole."

"I told you, all I know of cruelty, I learned there. I was a good student."

"And then I came... Angelique, I owe you a deep heartfelt apology. I spoke words of love to you, to disguise the ugly fact that as the son of a rich family, I was entitled to use a servant girl for my pleasure. It made it easier to lie to myself that I actually was fond of you, when I just wanted the use of your body. You were a servant. You owed it to me to comply. At other plantations I was given black slaves to bed, and those I just commanded. But you, with your blond hair and blue eyes, deserved more consideration..."

"And we were the instruments of punishment without knowing it."

"That's why your powers did not leave you when you renounced your Master. He did not give them to you. They were in you, waiting for the chance to bring retribution for the slaves. And they are still yours."

He took her hand and went to his knees. "Angelique, I profoundly apologize for using you, as if you were not a human being. As if you were a convenience, a household appliance. You deserved respect and I gave you none. I do hope you can forgive me.:"

Angelique shook her head. "Do you still think you owe me forgiveness? After all the pain I caused you?"

"None that I did not deserve"

Angelique shook. "You know, all those years in which I pined for you love... what I really wanted was this. Your respect. And now I have it..." she smiled. "I think that I am done chasing you. We were a mismatched pain, anyway."

"Yes. We tried it together, and it was a disaster. But now we are both free."

"Free..."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"What I want from you is a transformation spell."

"A spell?"

"Like the one you used on my father to turn him into a cat."

"He was a handsome cat...and luckily for him, in those days you did not "fix" cats... It would have been very depressing for him to find out that he had been... Sorry. Why do you want this transformation spell? Are you planning to use it? And on whom, and why?"

"It has to do with Norma Alvarez."

"The woman who kidnapped the child, and whom you killed."

"Yes. I am afraid that she cannot rest until she gets some sort of justice. She was in a terrible pain when she died... I know. It was the same pain that drove me for too log. I know what that pain can do. Angelique, I know that it is not something you want to do these days. I know that you want to think that those days are behind you.. But Norma needs to be free. Ideally forgiveness would release her, but she may to be capable of that. Justice, or some sort of it, may."

"You want to avenge her?"

"Not revenge. A balancing of the scales maybe. Something that would keep her from being earthbound here, suffering, and inflicting pain on innocent bystanders. She needs satisfaction. And I'd rather Nunez gave it to her than the next unsuspecting tourist from Argentina."

"So you want a transformation spell to use on Nunez."

"Yes. It has to be done this way."

"I know the pain that spirits who believe they were denied justice can undergo. Some of them many be able to release their anger and desire for revenge. But it takes time..."

"So you will do it?"

"Are you sure that you are not getting revenge for yourself? Because Nunez made you kill again. And kill someone you wanted to save."

"Well, yes, maybe there is some of it. But if it was just me, I could live with it. But there is Norma to consider. You know what an unsatisfied spirit can become... I have seen what Carl Collins became." he shivered... And I want Nunez to learn. I want to give him the chance to learn.''

'What do you want him to learn?"

"To value Norma as a person, to mourn her, to regent what was done to her."

"What Ruby Tate extracted from you?"

Yes. Nothing else would satisfy her, except that I saw her as she was, and mourned for her, giving her all the proper mourning that she was denied."

"And this will satisfy Norma?"

"I can only hope that it does."

"And what do you want to transform Nunez into? A cat?"

"No. A dog. He has a lot of a dog's virtues. He has few of a man's. So it is fitting that he will become a dog."

"And what will you do when he becomes a dog?"

"I will take care of him, and help him learn.. Teach him what he does not know."

"So you are going to do it for him, too?"

"If he learns, he may thank me for it."

"He may not."

"All I know is that I am thankful to Ruby. And I am thankful to Dave. The pain that learning from them gave was great but it is over, and the knowledge remains. And I think myself richer for it.."

"Barnabas, Trask is lucky that you have no desire to become a preacher, because you can give him a run for his money..."

"Will you do it?"

"Yes. You are free. I am free. It is fitting that Norma should be free too."

* * *

Carolyn held Liz's hand.

"It has been a long time, Carolyn. Isn't it?" Liz said weakly.

"Yes, mother, it has been."

"And we managed to hurt each other, didn't we?"

"You never hurt me." Carolyn was beginning to weep.

"I did. Many times. And you hurt me too. The more people love each other, the more they can hurt and be hurt. "she sighed. "dear me, I am getting philosophical. But you love me, Carolyn. In spite of everything, you love your silly old mother.

"Of course, I love you!"

"Of course, We love our parents out of duty. When you are older you duty is more to the truth.. And love a matter of choice.. Have I been a good mother to you?"

"You have."

"But there is much that you wish changed."

"Yes, but if it were changed, I don't think that I would have made wiser choices. And you did your best by me."

"Sometimes your best in not enough." Liz said feebly. "Oh, Carolyn. I can see it now! How different it would have been if I had seen through Jason McGuire. If only I had had more time... Not enough time..."

* * *

Barnabas placed a call to Nunez. He would have to make sure that Nunez came alone. It has to do with something that Norma had written, and had given him. Something that he did not want his wife and son to know about..

He was laying a trap, and had to be careful with the details. But if it all went well, and the trail stopped at the cottage where Nunez went, then it would grow cold there. No one would see him come or go there... his conditions had this advantages. Then once he had control of Nunez, he could make him go, all alone to the caves, where he would be waiting. with he spell that Angelique had given him.

Angelique had made it clear that once she gave him the spell, she did not want to know anything more about it. And it was fitting. If it went wrong, it should not get back to her. After all, Angelique had not known Norma as he did...

Nor did he know the kind of beast that Nunez was.

Nunez,, Todd. Different names, different faces. but the beastliness, the hypocrisy was the same. They were both vicious.

But Nunez would get a second chance, which Todd had not got. for him had been a relatively quick death, and the consciousness of his failure. Nunez could find atonement through suffering. And maybe a new life.

If he had achieved it, why couldn't Nunez, too?


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Nunez knocked at the door of the cottage. He let him in. He could attack him immediately, but he wanted to talk to him first...

He recalled Nelle Gunston, how he had let her hang herself with her own words, until he was sure that he was doing the right thing when he killed her..

Well, Nunez would not die, but still he was due a nasty surprise.

"I got your message." Nunez said. "I didn't have the opportunity to thank you for what you did for Carlos."

... Carlos... so that was the child's name...He had fallen into Norma's trap of not thinking of the child as more than an extension of the father...

"I am glad that I could be of help."

"We said certain tings... I..."

"We all were on edge. We all said things that we shouldn't.."

Nunez pursed his lips and Barnabas hated him with all his heart. For Nunez was, by his lights, a honorable man. He paid all his debts, he went out of his way to be a gentleman... he probably wore white gloves to executions and the like...

"Do you want a drink? Scotch? Rum?"

"Scotch would be fine."

He gave Nunez a glass, and held another himself.

"It is good that we can clear thee little misunderstandings between us." Nunez said.

"Yes, it is good."

"The woman was a dangerous maniac. You can see that, of course."

Barnabas nodded. He waned Nunez to damn himself.

"That's the trouble with all those human rights groups. They have no idea what is going on. They don't understand the nature nor the enemy. Then the communist propaganda blows it all out of proportion."

Barnabas nodded and smiled, feeling defiled for doing so. A few more words, and he would pounce.

Then he had had enough. He faced Nunez.

"This is it.:" he said. dropping his mask. "This is the end of the line for you, Nunez."

"What are you saying?"

"Norma is the last one you will ever hurt. Justice has finally caught up with you."

"I will not be talked to this way!"

Barnabas shoved him back on the chair. "You won't go anywhere," he hissed, letting his fangs show. "You are going to sit down and hear me out."

Before Nunez could react he captured his arms and made his head tilt back. NUnez fought, but by then Barnabas' fangs had found the vein in is neck.

Barnabas let him go after he had got control of his mind. It was an ugly mind. If he had not needed it to bring justice to Norma, he would not have touched it.

"I knew Norma well. I know that she was not crazy ' he said, outrage fueling his words. " She was not a maniac. I know who destroyed her"

"You...what did you do to me?"

"You taught her how to be cruel and heartless. You don't deserve to live. But I owe it to Norma to find a way that satisfies her, and for that you have to live."

"What do you want from me?"

"You have to do what I command you to do. You know that you cannot escape that. Words will not change that. Bravado will not change that. Today you start paying for your crimes."

"Crimes? Those were worthy acts, done in defense of our Homeland."

"They are crimes."

"What do you care? You are not even a human being?"

"And what would you know of humanity or the lack of it?"

Nunez howled his outrage, at the knowledge that he had to obey this... this monster.

"First you write a suicide note. So that they do not look for you."

"No.."

"You cannot resist. You will write it. And then you will go to where I point you to. It is one of the caves. I will be waiting for you there."

* * *

The cave below Widow's Hill was lit by a single solitary candle. There were other, unlit candles which would be used when Nunez got there.

Barnabas could not repress a shiver contemplating what he was about to do. he had condemned Angelique in the past for such thing, and here he was doing it himself.

With good reason.

He had to bring justice to Norma.

Nunez came in. He was aware of what was happening, but could not resist.

"Undress" Barnabas ordered him while he began to light the candles.

Nunez did so, then laid down on his back.

"Among you, when somebody is in that position you bring in the cattle prod. Unless it is a woman a you think if funny to push a rat into her private parts."

Nunez twitched. That was all the rebellion left in him.

"Well, I don't got to those extremes." Barnabas said calmly "I have my own ways. Too bad that Norma can't see you."

"But I can" Norma said, appearing by the far wall of the cave. "As my children can. And others. We come to watch."

A look of fear came to Nunez' face. There was not doubting now. Barnabas was indeed what he claimed to be, and he did the power to do what he threatened.

"What are you going to do with him?"'

"Just watch and be quiet."

He placed the candles in a circle around Nunez, lifted a dagger in the air and began to chant.

"Wolf thou art . Beasts thou art. Beastly are thy hungers, beastly are thy pleasures. Beastly is thy nature."

Nunez's skin began to prickle at the chant., as if refusing to hold the body inside any longer.

"Inside, beast you are. Outside you are not. Let your outside match your inside!"

Nunez whimpered. Norma laughed. And there was an echo in her laughter...

Barnabas looked at he with concern. Carl had sounded like that, with no hint of his former carefree laughter. Trask had sounded like that...

Did he have the right to chain Norma to this hatred and need for revenge?

But it was not him doing the chaining. It had been done without his intervention. And maybe his actions would now free her and the others.

He threw powder over the candles, giving rise to thick blue smoke.

"May your outward nature show our inward one. may the truth about you be there for all to see."

The smoke enveloped Nunez and Barnabas fed it, its color growing darker, close to purple as it began to hide the ground from sight.

"Let the truth about you be seen by everyone! May your truth be shown.!" Barnabas heard his own voice reverberate on the walls "Let yourself find the truth Know it for all time!"

The smoke now filled the cave. It had an acrid, unpleasant odor. He could not see Nunez anymore., hidden under the smoke. There was some motion, but he could not identify it.

He had to hope that the spell was working properly and that he was not botching it up.

"What is happening to him?" Norma asked eagerly.

"He's changing."

"Changing? Into what?"

"You'll see.:"

They looked at each other. Rage and hurt were still in her, but not so desperate now.

"Norma, you understand that after I am done you will have no claim on him. Nor will any of the others."

She nodded. "I understand. Make it good."

"Let go of it. Let go of our hatred and try to find peace."

She nodded again.

The smoke was clearing and they could see the ground again.

And the large dog lying on it.

"Fitting" Norma laughed "he was always a son-of-a bitch."

Barnabas put a collar around the dog's neck.

"Does he know?" Norma asked eagerly. "Is he aware?"

"Yes, He is." he looked at her. "do you have what you wanted.?"

"Yes."

"Then go in peace, Norma. Be at peace. All of you."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

The dog whimpered in a corner, held by a strong chain The cats looked at it with distaste, making sure that they were out of reach.

"Cut that out, or I'll sell you to a laboratory" Barnabas said, truculently.

The dog that had once been Captain Nunez lifted sad, mournful eyes to him.

"Cut the martyr act. This is more than your victims got, and you know it."

The dog whimpered again.

"If you have to complain, do it with less noise." Barnabas grumbled again. "I have work to do."

Nunez dropped his head between his paws.

"That's it. Good dog."

He knew how terribly humiliating those words would be for Nunez , compared to his former station in life. But he'd better be used to it. He was going to be a dog for a long time.

As a human being he had been an utter failure. As a dog, he had the qualities required. Courage, devotion, unquestioning loyalty, obedience to his chosen masters...

He patted the dog's head, rubbing it gently "What will I call you? Rex? Duke? Fido? Muffin? I know. Comet. That's a good dog name."

* * *

Yolanda turned off the lights and began drifting into sleep. Quentin would come around. He had to.

Quentin could search the family records without arousing suspicion, as she would And for certain things,. she would need Quentin's strength. If not today, he'd come to her tomorrow, or the day after...

She turned on the bed, feeling the weariness in he. Soon... soon ... The Mask of Baal was there for those who could find the place where Judah Zachary's body had been buried.

The door creaked slightly and then the steps approached her. Yolanda half rose on the bed, but before she could scream Quentin's hand had clamped on her mouth.

"Don't be afraid." Quentin said quickly "I only want to talk to you."

She grunted.

"Don't scream." Quentin begged. "Promise me that you won't scream."

She nodded and Quentin released her.

"I want you to show me where the mask is."

"What mask?"

"The one we saw when you tried to summon help for me."

"I saw no mask" Yolanda said firmly "It came for you, not me, so I saw none of it."

"But how can I find more about it?" Quentin was almost begging now.

"We could try again. But I guarantee nothing. I am only a channel, nothing more."

* * *

George stood in amazement at the huge dog sitting in the middle of Barnabas' living room.

"Four cats were not enough for you? You want a dog, too?" he stared at the huge beast in amazement "And how did you get it not to howl at you?"

"It took some doing." Barnabas admitted "It is part of a program that I talked Julia into trying, Pet therapy."

"You mean, psychoanalyze pets?"

"No." Barnabas laughed "Use pets as part of therapy. Let them patients take care of them. Give them something to love. it works in other places."

"Not with a dog like that." George considered the huge beast "reminds me of Chris, somehow."

"Just because it is big and has a wolf-life snout doesn't mean that it cannot give unquestioning love."

"Yeah... maybe" George agreed "and speaking of unquestioning love. Or the questioning kind..."

Later, they laid side by side. It had been good, but Barnabas knew that there was an edge to it. He wondered if George suspected it, and why it was there.

Slowly, almost lazily George got up. "Well, you have to get back to work. And so do I, even if not so early. Or late, as the case might be."

"Well, I suspect that your workload will get easier now that the tourists are going back home.. And since Nunez killed himself..."

"You seem sure of that."

"Well, he left a note..."

"And that's it."

"He must have been in some sort of emotional turmoil before he came here. Why chose this as a vacation spot if he was not troubled?

George frowned "I don't like it. Don't ask me why, but I don't like tee sound of it. I met the man himself, and he was not likely to crack."

"Maybe it was a warped sense of honor led him to it. Like Captain Todd in Parallel time."

"Who did it under _your_ influence."

"Not this time..."

Garage looked at him. "Why am I thinking that you had something to do with it? Did you kill him?'

"No. I did not kill him, nor cause his death indirectly either."

"Hmmm...With is it that you are not telling me?" A crazy idea hit him. "Where did you find the dog?"

"It was a stray."

"Stray, eh?" Just found it and decided to start an experimental program, not knowing how well suited it is for it."

"It is a good dog!"

"Why don't you tell me the whole story? You lie very badly, once one knows what to look for" he frowned. "is he related to Nunez disappearance?" Did you set yourself as judge, jury, and executioner?"

"Nunez is not dead.. Not at my hand, I mean."

"He is not dead at all, is he?" he studied Barnabas, "What could it be that he was hiding?

It could not be that...it was crazy...

"It cannot be that crazy. You could not have turned Nunez into than dog."

Barnabas said nothing.

"You did! You are crazy! "

"You are better off not knowing." Barnabas said, mildly..

"You did that! You...!"

"As a human being he was a disaster. But he makes a decent dog."

"But... but. Why? What right had you?"

"I was Norma's friend. Or the nearest thing to a friend that she would allow herself."

"But... what right have you!" George was getting angry now. You are always speaking of forgiveness, and have used so much of it in the past.."

"It was not up to me to forgive Nunez. It is up to Norma and the other victims."

"But is it up to you to extract revenge?"

"Not revenge, Penance."

"And you took it upon yourself?"

"Norma trusted me. I could do no less."

"And she asked you to?"

"I had to. George you never knew Carl Collins. What he used to be when I met him. He was carefree, there was no meanness in him, no pleasure in inflicting pain. The outrage that he felt at being betrayed by his brother and murdered by me causes his restless spirit to device that guillotine. He's a prisoner of his hatred and I do not know how he can be released from it... I cannot release him. But I can release Norma. And this requires Nunez ' penance."

"You did it for her?"

"I owe her. She died by my hand, though I did not will it. I must give her satisfaction and a way to pass on."

* * *

Will Comet ever become Nunez again? What will happen when Quentin finds the mask of Baal? What does the future hold for Liz, Adam, and Carolyn?

Stay tuned.


End file.
